Virtue of the Damned
by tankbbg
Summary: Hermione Granger: inmate of Azkaban prison. What could cause a member of the "Golden Trio" to join the Dark Lord and become the strongest witch on the side of evil? DMxHG
1. Bright

Bright.

That was the first word that came to mind.

The whole world was too bright.

After years of only knowing the four gray walls that had become the barriers of her world, the journey into the outside world was blinding. The sky was so light it bordered on white, the green of the grassy hills were washed out, and heat seemed to roll off the marble of the buildings.

After four years in prison, the world was too harsh, too…bright.

She brushed her fingers over the flowers to her side, retracting her fingers the moment they brushed against the petal. Sharp. The flower petal felt sharp. She formed a smile on her chapped lips. It was so soft it was sharp to her senses.

"Miss Granger?"

She winced. The voice created dissonance and discord to her ears while others might have found it comforting and soothing. She glanced over her shoulder at the woman walking towards her, her white lab coat overwhelming her sight.

"Miss Granger, we need to head back inside."

Ah, yes.

Inside.

Something she welcomed.

Inside was an escape to the harsh bright world she was suddenly thrust back in. She allowed herself to smirk, a shimmer of her old self.

What was meant to be a reward was more a punishment really. The world she no longer recognized created too many anomalies for her. She never thought she would see the day that she craved the dank cell in Azkaban that had become her world for four years. And yet, that cell was the one thing she would wish for if she still believed in wishes.


	2. The Rules of the Game

Chapter One: The Rules of the Game

"Shall we begin?" Hermione glanced up at the Healer, her eyes hard.

"Shall we begin what?" She countered, a smirk reminiscent of another's on her lips. The woman sighed.

"Miss Granger, if you are not willing to be cooperative then I'll have no choice than to return you back to your cell in Azkaban."

"At least there I am called by my actual name. If you keep referring to a name that I no longer go by then I will continue to be uncooperative." The threat of Azkaban obviously held no effect on the brunette. Healer Alexandra Hendrix sighed yet again, glancing down to review her notes.

"Miss Granger, it reads in the documents provided by the Ministry of Magic, sent directly from Minister Weasley, that your legal name is Hermione Jane Granger. Perhaps you would rather I call you 'Hermione' or 'Jane' instead of 'Miss Granger'?" A derisive snort startled Hendrix and made her look up. The pale brunette was looking away from her, staring directly at a wall. She quickly scribbled this down in her patient file as exhibiting classic symptoms of one imprisoned in Azkaban. Perhaps a step in the right direction…

"Ron would keep that my legal name. No, I haven't gone by 'Granger' in six years, Hendrix. That is simply my maiden name." She broke off, looking back up at her Healer, her eyes daring her to ask the question. She was not disappointed.

"Then what is your married name?" Hermione laughed as if Hendrix had just told a very funny joke.

"See, that's the thing with you people. You are plagued by curiosity. How do you know that that question wouldn't set me off? For all you know, that could have turned me into a psychotic axe murderer and I would have killed you. But no, we strive for that truth, that small piece of information that will finally reveal the true image of the puzzle. You are ALL alike." Morbidly intrigued, Alexandra leaned forward and risked another question.

"What people, Miss Granger?" The laughter stopped immediately as Hermione sharply met the Healer's eyes.

"Oh no, one question at a time, Ms. Hendrix. This is how the game works from here on out. You ask a question, I contemplate answering it. I either answer you or tell you to move on. And you will move on. As we both know, I did not answer your first question and you asking another greatly insults me. Did you perhaps think that I am so emotionally deranged that I cannot _handle_ the first question?"

"N-no, Miss Granger, I did not mean to insult you. I simply assumed that—"

"When you assume you make an ass out of you and me," Hermione sneered, flicking her waist length hair away from her face. "And I want a hair cut next time available." Healer Hendrix nodded mutely, noting the request numbly down as she suddenly became aware of the very small room and the very powerful witch in front of her. Had four years in Azkaban done nothing to her? Or was this _exactly_ what had happened to her?

Silence reigned in the room, broken only by the hum of the wind beyond the shaded window. Alexandra remained quiet as she watched the witch. She was pressing her thumb to her ring finger and seemed to be stroking the light skin there. Was this woman really married?

"Malfoy," She whispered her voice so soft it was almost as if the wind had muttered it. Hendrix's quill froze mid stroke at the name. That name had struck fear in the hearts of wizards and witches on both sides during the war. She had to have misheard her.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat the name?" Hermione smiled lightly.

"Of course, Malfoy. My name is Hermione Malfoy and has been for the last ten years."

I hope you all enjoyed this. More coming soon. Please R&R.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea.


	3. A Lesson on Indulgence

Chapter Two: A Lesson on Indulgence

Healer Hendrix's look of absolute horror and her silence pleased Hermione to no end. She was always one for shock value; whether it was known to the mass populous was another question. She hadn't expected an expression any other than this. She had seen it many times and the satisfaction she felt when they came from those she had trusted was like a drug she couldn't get enough of. Like her _dear_ friend Ronald.

She remembered the day she was processed for Azkaban. When she was announced as "Hermione Malfoy" he almost had an aneurism. His face turned so red she thought he would pass out. He proceeded to rant and rave, cursing her for all her evil deeds. She simply smiled and held her hands out in a 'cuff-me' type of pose.

"You are _the_ Hermione?" Alexandra asked quietly, interrupting Hermione of her reminiscences. She nodded slowly, her own curiosity getting the better of herself.

"How old are you Hendrix?"

"Twenty-three," She answered uncomfortably as she pushed back a piece of fallen hair. She suddenly felt like a trapped animal, under the scrutiny of someone of higher status. She suddenly felt like one of her patients.

"And they let a child handle…let's just say people like me?"

"I assure you, _Mrs. Malfoy_, I am more than capable to be treating someone such as yourself. I've dealt with many death eaters and supporters of the dark side in order to determine if they are able to be rehabilitated and ready to be integrated back into society," Alexandra tapped her quill against her clipboard, her ego slightly bruised at the "child" quip.

"Catching on, my dear. On the name, I mean, but obviously you have not done your homework or not completely. _I'm_ no death eater. 25 points from…let us see…your intelligence makes up for your lack of common sense…you have some courage but the level is hardly worth mentioning…cunning is a trait you do not hold but you are not completely clueless. Therefore I take 25 points from Ravenclaw. I am taking points away from the right house, am I not?" Hendrix gaped at her patient. How had she known her house?

"It's quite simple actually. You simply exhibit all the classic symptoms of one being placed in a house of useless intellectuals." The healer proceeded to continue her interpretation of a fish. Did this woman have telepathy? Hello?

"No, I can't read your mind. Again, you exhibit the symptoms of an intellectual; all your emotions and thoughts practically run across your face, child." Hermione found pleasure in the girl's flustered expression, her feathers effectively ruffled. Thoroughly bored, she began a new line of questioning for the healer.

"So, what do they teach you children about me in Hogwarts? I am taught about, am I not?"

"Yes, you are but—wait, I am the healer and you will answer my questions, not the other way around." Hendrix flushed again as the dark witch scoffed at her command, twirling a long curl around her finger, her eyes watching the closed window.

"_Indulge_ me, healer, and I'll answer one of yours," she responded as she returned her gaze. Alexandra sighed, switching her crossed legs into the opposite position.

"If you must know they simply spin a story about a young witch once loyal to the light before she was seduced, commanded, coerced, or possibly threatened to the dark side. They then continue with her rise to wife of the Dark Lord and her position as Dark Queen because she didn't like the sound of Dark Lady. The happy ending to the nightmare is she is finally brought down by the execution of her husband and her imprisonment in Azkaban prison. Satisfied?"

Alexandra knew she sounded childish by her flippant recounting of the tragic tale and she _definitely_ knew better than to antagonize an unstable, powerful patient but she was irritated by the witch. Again, she knew that was not a good enough excuse but it was all she had.

She glanced up to register Hermione's expression and she was shocked by her blank mask. Her eyes stared off into the distance, as if she were a thousand miles away. Her face was the picture of a porcelain doll; beautiful but cold.

Thank you all my wondeful reviewers!


	4. Revelations

I just want to say thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I also want apologize for my slow updating. It's difficult at times to find time to write due to all the demands of Senior year. So, again, I ask all of you to please be patient and enjoy Virtue of the Damned!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own no one from the Potter Universe except for my original characters!

Chapter Four: Revelations

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"No, I understand…I wouldn't expect anything less. Hell, I deserve your anger and much more. I am or was after all the 'Dark Queen.'" Gone was the cold mask of a powerful witch and in place was a woman in pain. Alexandra glanced at her watch before looking back at her patient.

"If you would prefer, we can continue this session at a later date," She offered but Hermione shook her head.

"No, you answered my question and in all fairness, we made a deal. And as odd as it may sound, I still do have a sense of honor left in me." She offered with a small smile. Hendrix couldn't help but wonder if the new act was the _real_ Hermione or if that was all it was, an act. Not willing to lose the chance of a compliant patient, she went for the proverbial kill.

"Why?" Without looking at the doctor, Hermione smiled as her eyes drifted closed.

"Why what, Hendrix? There's a lot that falls under the category of why. You're going to have to be a little more specific." She replied but with no malice. Her voice sounded tired. Alexandra noted that her entire posture seemed to have shifted when she voiced the question. Her shoulders where no longer pulled back in defiance, her chin no long upturned in order to look down at the doctor. Her shoulders where now hunched ever so slightly, her chin now pointed down towards her chest.

"Why…why did you change sides?"

"Now isn't that the million dollar question?" Alexandra looked completely lost.

"Yes, it is. No one knows why. And I mean _no one_. Not the Ministry, not the Order— "

"Are you sure about that 'no one', Hendrix? There are three people on the light side that do…and know the subject so intimately," She abruptly laughed as a thought seemed to bloom in her mind's eye. "They're your saviors. They destroyed my life more than once but they ask you to discover the reason for my defection? Cowards, the whole lot of them! They can't even face me. Has their victory gone to their heads and erased all their sins? Has their triumph cancelled out the means to their ends?" She ranted, suddenly standing, her chair falling back with a crash. Alexandra froze, fear seizing her. Hermione stalked to the shaded window and ripped the shades from their frame. The sudden burst of sunlight blinded both occupants of the room and sent Hermione to her knees. She clutched her stomach as her breathing turned erratic.

"Oh God!" Hermione screamed as she crumpled to the floor, her body shaking.

Alexandra blinked her eyes to adjust to the light as she tumbled to the floor next to her patient. She could hear the medical staff assembling outside, waiting for her signal to intervene. Ignoring the back up, she gently placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. She flinched away from the touch.

"Stop! Just stop it! Send me back, send me back! I can't do this! I can't…" The former dark witch sobbed into her arms, her eyes clenched shut. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Realization dawned on Alexandra. The session was causing her to have flash backs.

"Hermione, I want you breathe, okay? I can't help you if you don't calm down. In through your nose and out through your mouth." The Healer coached as she attempted to calm her down. Hermione did not respond but simply trashed about. Hendrix decided to take a different approach.

"If you don't calm down you'll pass out, Hermione. Is that what you want? To give up? Is that who you are? Do you want to go back to being Hermione _Granger_? Or are you Hermione _Malfoy_?"

A loud gasp tore from Hermione's lips as she cleared through the haze of memories. Coherence bloomed in her eyes as she began to control her breathing. She was right. Hendrix was right. She was no longer that girl. She was a Malfoy. That alone was definitely a far cry from when she was in Hogwarts. Testing which reality she was in, Hermione tentatively opened her eyes in the dark cocoon of her hair and arms, relief filling her as she realized _they _were not there. _She_ was no longer there either.

Lifting her head from the embrace of her arms, Hermione shakily pushed her hair back from her face before instantly regretting it; the streaming sunlight blinded her. Hissing, she began to scramble across the floor for a corner when a thought stopped her. _You're a Malfoy. Malfoy's do not hide and they most definitely do not scramble for a corner_. Pulling every shred of dignity left that had somehow lodged itself deep within herself, she unsteadily stood with her back to the window.

Alexandra watched in a somewhat awe as she witnessed her patient try and overcome her stigma of the light. But the healer understood that she was overcoming something much deeper than a fear of the light. She was fighting against something that was older than eight years old. She was fighting against the very thing that caused to her to change sides.

"Hermione, are you ok now?" Alexandra asked gently, lifting her chair back into its appropriate position before moving to fix her patient's. She noticed Hermione take a deep breath with her eyes closed and expel it through her mouth, just as she had coached. The woman slowly opened her eyes, blinking back moisture, and slowly shifted back into her chair.

"Yes, Hendrix, I'm fine." She pulled at the wrists of her long sleeved robes in a nervous gesture. She could feel the bile at the back of her throat as her stomach swayed tumultuously. She was aware of the fine shaking of her hands as she pushed her long hair behind her ears. She knew that her body was close to giving out. But she would not recognize the fear that had seized her heart. Because to acknowledge it was to accept its truth and let it take over. Fear was neither in her vocabulary nor in a Malfoy's. She was a Malfoy. She was a Malfoy. A Malfoy…

"Hermione?" Alexandra became more cautious as her patient seemed to drift off into her own world again. This was pushing it. Maybe it would be best if she ended the session and suggested a later t-

"There were many reasons, Hendrix. Sometimes I think there are too many to count, but they all really boil down to one main reason. And for the rest of my life, I shall _never_ forgive them for it, for even asking it of me."

"Who asked you?"

Hermione scoffed with a smirk on her lips. "Your precious Saint Potter, of course. Along with his trusty sidekick and his sister." Alexandra's eyes were wide with shock.

"Harry Potter, Minister Weasley, and Mrs. Potter are the cause of your defection?" She whispered as she scribbled the revelation into her notes. It could not be.

"Who'd you think was? Neville Longbottom?"

"Hermione, what did they ask of you?" Hermione's breath caught in her throat at the question. She turned towards the window, her eyes adjusted to the light.

"They asked me to kill." Alexandra flinched slightly. The saviors of their time asked her to kill?

"It was a war, Hermione. Perhaps it was not all that unreasonable for them to have asked you that."

"They asked me to kill a child." Alexandra paled. Kill a child? How could anyone ask that of anyone? No, something had to be wrong with the information that she was receiving. Perhaps Hermione wasn't being entirely forthcoming.

"Maybe the child was evil or, or dangerous. Possibly it would have destroyed any chance for the Light to win. Perchance,-"

"You don't get it, Hendrix," Hermione cried. She bit her lip as her gaze fell to her folded hands. "They asked me to kill my baby."

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	5. Once Upon a Time

Chapter Five: Once Upon a Time

The room was as silent as a tomb. The clatter of a pencil striking the cement floor broke cut through it. Hendrix stared at her patient, her mouth hanging open in abhorrent horror.

"Wh-what?" She sputtered harshly, loudly, insensitively. Hermione flinched, clutching her stomach as she slowly rocked herself.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me, I knew it. How stupid can I be? Hendrix, just forget, I was just joking around. You know, like 'funny-haha'? Well, maybe it wasn't so funny but—" The former Dark Queen rambled, her wide eyes searching for an escape from the room. She jumped when she felt Hendrix grasp her shaking hand.

"A joke, Hermione…This isn't a joke, is it?" She suggested in a much gentler tone, her shock now pushed away from the forefront of her mind. She felt tears welling up in her eyes as she watched the woman in front of her try and deny the truth by muttering unintelligible things about humor and the nature of jokes though all the while her arms desperately clung to protect her middle.

Alexandra allowed the mad tirade to continue until tears began to fall from honey eyes, down pale cheeks, tracing the outline of a nose, a jaw, a pair of lips, before plummeting to the dirty Azkaban uniform where it was soaked in by the rough and coarse material to once again become part of the powerful witch.

"Hermione, please calm down. I believe you. Please, I need you to calm down so you can explain what happened."

"What does it matter, Hendrix, if you believe me. I told you it was a joke. A joke! P-Potter and Weasley ask me to kill a baby? Y-yeah right, right? I mean, I never even had a baby!" Her strained voice broke as she shouted her denial. Alexandra moved to her knees before Hermione, pushing the mass of the hair that had fallen to cover the witch's tear-stained face behind her ears. Shifting honey eyes would not meet her aqua gaze.

"Hermione, I don't think this is a joke. I think this is a very important event in your life and by opening up about this, it could help by getting to the root of the problem and–"

"What if I don't want to get to the root of the problem?" Alexandra recoiled at the coldness of Hermione's voice, at the ice that had hardened over her eyes as she stared at her now. She fumbled backwards, reaching blindly for her chair, completely unnerved by her patient's extreme mood change.

"Why don't you want to get to the root of it?" Fingers connecting with hard plastic, she pulled herself back onto the chair and shakily smoothed her hand over her hair, grabbing the pencil from behind her ear. Hermione unhurriedly wiped the remaining tears from her cheek with the hem of her uniform, glancing to the side, "Maybe because it will make it all too real." Her gaze returned to the Healer.

"Hermione, please, I know I am asking you to revisit a…very painful time in your life, but I think if for no other reason, it would maybe give you some peace of mind to know that someone knows your side of the story."

Hermione watched the younger woman as she pleaded with her. She knew it would give her peace of mind to tell her story…she just did not know if she was strong enough to tell it completely. However, she would not know unless she tried.

"Do you really want to hear this?" She whispered, closing her eyes as she was assaulted by flashes of memories.

"Yes, Hermione. Please." Finding it hard to believe as she felt herself smile, Hermione leaned back into her chair, gazing up at the ceiling.

"Alright then. We're going to be here for a while," she looked back at the eager healer and smiled sadly. 'Now how is it that a story begins? Oh, yes…Once upon a time there was a Gryffindor Princess and a Slytherin Prince…Although from opposite houses and opposite sides of a war that had waged for centuries, they found one another. The found in each other what they had always needed but were never willing to admit; Love… A love so powerful that overcame all obstacles…Well, maybe not all but enough for a mere mortal to finally know that the thing called love is real…and not something only found in a fairytale."

Alexandra Hendrix found herself transfixed by the haunting woman in front of her as she spun her tale.

"Draco and I found each other at the end of our Seventh year. He was Head Boy and I Head Girl. We had actually been on more civil terms due to him joining the Order at the end of our Sixth year. He turned double agent, much like our beloved Professor Snape when Voldermort threatened the lives of his mother and father, and spied on Voldermort's plans and carried out his duties of both sides without actually resorting to killing people. When we were both Heads, we had an understanding of our roles in the war and our parts in the mission, our crusade for the Light. We kept relations amicable, building a tolerance between us enough to chat about mundane things from books to classes to the latest and tasteless muggle fashions. It was actually during a mission when we were sent to stakeout a possible neo death eater rally that our relationship changed…

-.-

"Look, Granger, they're not going to show. I told Snape they weren't and they still sent us on this wild goose chase!"

"Oh, shut it, Malfoy. At least it got us out of the castle. After the latest fiasco between Harry and Ron, I need to get away from all that brooding." Amused, storm gray eyes lit up with rare, unguarded mirth.

"Yes, fiasco would indeed accurately describe the mess Potter and Weasel made of that simple mission: Sit there, shut up, don't move, watch, listen, and remember. Nowhere in Dumbledore's orders did he say to act stupidly heroic to try and save a house elf, which turned up to be a transfigured tea kettle, get caught, and have to have Snape come and save the day by charming all the Death-eater wannabes into believing that the Retarded-duo were just a bunch of drunk muggles." Hermione allowed herself to giggle and lean closer to her partner in the cramped space.

"Yeah, and they're still blaming each other for it. Ron swears that it was Harry's idea and Harry says it was Ron's!" They shared a quiet laugh at her friends' expenses before they returned to a comfortable silence. However, Hermione's smile disappeared as she pulled her cloak around her tighter.

"Bloody weather," she cursed, adjusting her hood to keep the rain from getting in her face. She heard Malfoy sigh beside her.

"You know, Dumbledore should seriously consider the logistics of missions like these where even the slightest magic would disturb those alarms. I mean, I could definitely go for a warming and drying spell just about now."

"I know exactly what you mean. I completely soaked to the bone, covered in mud, and shivering so much I'm surprised I haven't set off those oh-so-sensitive alarms." She looked up at him, her teeth chattering slightly as she tried to smile, but failed miserably as it turned into a pout with a new clap of thunder. Shaking his head, Draco wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tucked gently her against his side.

"You just fall apart in the face of the elements, don't you, Granger?" He laughed again as he brushed back a sodden lock of curly hair from her face, revealing glaring honey eyes. She childishly stuck her tongue out at him before snuggling closer to his warmth, her pride be damned. She sighed contentedly as she felt Malfoy pull her tighter against him and absently press a kiss to top of her head.

Hermione nervously glanced up at the Slytherin where their eyes met.

For a moment they sat there beneath the oak tree, hidden by thick shrubbery and the most subtle covert spells the elder wizards could provide, and something changed between them. The Gryffindor princess sighed once again before burying her face into the Prince's shoulder. The Prince allowed himself to smile as he gently ran his fingers up and down her arm.

"Sleep, Granger, I'll make sure nothing happens to you." And so, the Princess drifted off into sleep, in a place surrounded by death eaters, and in the company of her former worst enemy, the Prince of her rival house. And yet, she had never felt more relaxed and safe at any other time in her life. Her last thought before she surrendered herself to the land of dreams was of how nice it was to feel protected.

-.-

"Never had I felt so warm and safe, even when I had been with Potter and Weasley back then. That night, Draco had kept me safe while I slept in a death eater-infested forest…and that's when we changed. It was then that we realized we could trust each other with our well being and with our lives. I know, sounds odd. Didn't I trust the Order with the very same things? Back then, I had trust them but I never felt as safe with them as I did with Draco. Maybe it was the fact that Potter was such a target back then that no matter what happened, people would be trying to keep him safe, people like me, and no one would be there for me when he could be in trouble was a possibility. When I was with Draco though, he always looked for me and my safety, not Potter. And I had never felt that in my life…

"By the time we had graduated, Draco and I had begun to casually date at the Order Headquarters seeing as he was a double agent. You know things like coffee in the kitchen, meeting in the library, and just hanging out together. We were taking it slow and we couldn't have been happier. However, just one event can alter your view on what makes you happy. Draco had been paired up with Potter for a standard recon mission when they missed their check-in time. When they became over five hours late, Snape led Lupin and a few others to go retrieve the two. They returned fourteen hours later with bleeding Potter and an unconscious Draco. Bleeding Potter, what a funny phrase…

-.-

Hermione rushed down the stairs, taking two at a time. She could hear the commotion downstairs as the older members began rushing through the halls. She burst through the kitchen door as Mrs. Weasley swept everything clear off the table in order to make room for Lupin and Mr. Weasley to set a writhing Harry on it. He cried out as if every bone in his body had broken, the contact with the table making him scream in agony.

So concerned were most of the adults in the room with Harry, that they failed to notice Snape enter cradling the limp body of the blonde Slytherin. Hermione pushed passed Fred and George as Snape set Draco down on a bare counter, tears already streaming down her cheeks as she faced her once potions master.

"No. Please no!" She pleaded, although her voice was no more than a whisper. She grasped Draco's limp and clammy hand in hers as the other brushed back his bags from his damp forehead. She felt her professor gently rest his hand on her shoulder in a rare moment of compassion, concern flaring in his eyes for his god son.

"He is not dead, Miss Granger, but we don't know what's wrong with him. Stay with him while I try and deal with Potter. Should he awaken, alert me and keep him talking. Keep him awake." Nodding, she dragged a kitchen stool with her foot over to her and clung to his hand. Over the course of the night that was filled with Harry's agonized screams as all his broken bones, a total of 12, were mended with a freshly brewed potion from Snape, Hermione begged the unconscious body of Draco to wake up.

By dawn, Harry had passed out from the pain and Draco remained, his condition unchanged. Snape had checked on his god son throughout the night, refusing to answer her questions. At some point after Snape's last visit, Ginny had come downstairs to hold a silent vigil over Harry as the rest of the Order went about investigating what had happened.

As Hermione began to feel herself drift off to sleep, she was startled awake by the presence of another beside her. Tonks quietly sat on the stool next to her, staring concernedly at her cousin.

"No change, huh?" Sitting up, Hermione shook her head, suppressing her tears as she acknowledged the fact. Tonks sighed, running a hand through her demure auburn colored hair.

"We should really move him off this counter and to a bed, but Snape won't let us move him, you know. He said that we may cause more damage than good," she broke off, looking up at Hermione. "Normally I'd do it just to prove Snape wrong, but Draco's my cousin, you know. I do care about him…" Both women sat in silence as they returned to watching the still blonde Slytherin. As if suddenly remembering that Draco had not been the only one hurt, Hermione stood.

"Are you going to be here for a while?" Tonks smiled, nodding.

"Yeah, I got nothing better to do at the moment. I'll watch over him." Whispering her thanks, Hermione made her way over to the quiet red-head. Ginny's face was pale with worry and her eyes were glassy with unshed tears, no

doubt reflecting her own visage. The young girl glanced over at her friend in acknowledgment before returning her attention to her unconscious boyfriend.

"How is he, Gin?"

"Sleeping…At least, I think he is. For all I know, he could be dead." Hermione glanced down at her friend's battered body, taking relief at his rising and falling chest.

"At least we know he's breathing." Ginny burst into tears at Hermione's feeble attempt to make light of the situation, her sobs echoing off the tile kitchen. Flustered, Hermione embraced the redhead, soothing her how she herself desired to be comforted. She wanted someone to tell her it would be alright, that it was all worth it, and that he would open his eyes soon. Too bad no one besides their taciturn potions master seemed to understand the depth of feelings the Gryffindor Princess and the Slytherin Prince shared. The Gryffindor Princess comforted her friend throughout the gloomy morning while the Prince's cousin kept her promise and did not move from his side.

-.-

"Draco didn't wake that night…or the next. Potter was coherent and verbal by the end of the second day. Finally after a combination of my tears, Tonks' snide remarks, and Mrs. Weasley's nagging did we finally move Draco's body to a bedroom. Snape reported to Voldermort, Lucius, and Narcissa that Draco had taken ill by a potion he had been working on and was at Snape's house. I still can't see how Voldermort could have been that thick, the bastard. I know Narcissa didn't buy it but she wasn't about to say anything. If Narcissa Malfoy was anything, she was a loyal and loving mother and wife. She was not chattel like many of the Pureblood wives…" Hermione broke off, taking a moment to remember her mother-in-law before continuing her tale. She smiled slightly at Hendrix's slack jawed expression as her Quick-Quills scribbled down the entire exchange.

"Something on your mind, Hendrix?"

"I-I-it's just that…Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape? Members of the Order of the Phoenix? It just seems so farfetched. I mean, they were both condemned and executed for the crimes,—" Alexandra suddenly stopped, remembering whom she was speaking with; the Dark Lord's widow.

"Hermione, I didn't mean—"

"Now, where were we?" Hermione snapped, her eyes icy again. Her glare eased in intensity as she turned away from the Healer and her face full of pity.

"Oh yes, the waking of my then future husband. Yes, he obviously woke from his coma five days after both him and Potter were dragged into the kitchen of the Order Headquarters. Turns out that they were ambushed by a bear, a nonmagical bear when they had crept too close to her den and cubs. The fuss the bear made alerted the death eaters nearby and they had fun torturing the boys until Snape arrived, in order to take them to the Dark Lord. With their guards down, the Death Eaters were attacked with various memory charms by fellow Order members before they took the boys out of there.

"When Draco awoke, I had never felt more relieved in my entire life. I swear I cried more when he opened his beautiful stormy eyes than the five days he was out. He allowed me to cry over him, all the while running a hand through my hair to reassure me that he was alive, and although not well, he would be soon…

"After that incident, our relationship rapidly changed from flirting friends to a full-blown romantic and intimate relationship. We became students of the 'Carpe Diem' mentality, living for each moment as the war became bloodier and more dangerous. I knew then that my relationship with Draco caused a rift between Potter and I, but that was a crack compared to the canyon that was created between me and Weasley. That canyon has only widened to this very day, where it is now a universe wide…And I do hope it gets wider." She smirked, running a hand through her hair.

"Now, unto the next incident that caused me to 'become' this dark and evil queen…"

Sorry about the mistake guys. I had accidentally posted chapter 6 in chapter 5 place!


	6. Distraction

Hi guys. I am Soooooooo sorry about the long wait for the update. I know I promised it a very LONG time ago but here it is! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Six: Distraction

"Later that summer, my parents died." Healer Hendrix glanced up from her notes, startled by the noticeable trace of emotion in Hermione's voice. She would have almost pegged it for sorrow. Choosing her words carefully, she ventured her question.

"How did they die?"

"They didn't die in some spectacular blaze of glory, if that's what you are thinking," Hermione scoffed, glancing down at her folded hands. "True, they were murdered, but the Order would later chalk them up as 'casualties of war' or even better, 'collateral damage.'… My parents were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time in Daigon Alley and got caught in the crossfire between a band of Death Eaters and Aurors."

She broke off, finally lifting her gaze. "I won't lie; it was one of the hardest experiences up until that point that I ever had to go through. But, my small troubles were insignificant in comparison to the war…"

-.-

"Hermione?"

Hermione glanced up from the glossy photo in her hands where everything and everyone had seemed so happy. Ginny stood in the doorway in obvious concern.

"Yeah, Gin? What did you need?" The red head gazed around the dark room, the crashing thunder and pounding of rain filling the silence. As if gathering the nerve, she stepped into the room and sat next to her friend.

"I just wanted to say how sorry I am, Mione. I can't imagine what you're going through right now."

Hermione turned away from Ginny's pitying blue eyes, unable to accept another's guilt along with her own.

"Thank you, Ginny, but what are you really here for?" Darkening in embarrassment, Ginny pursed her lips.

"Harry just gave out the assignments. I tried, I really did, but I don't think he knows what happened."

Hermione turned. "I don't understand." Ginny sighed, pulling Hermione's hand between her own, ignoring the flinch the older girl gave at the contact.

"He has put you on assignment, Mione. I tried to tell him about…well, what happened, but he said that he needed everyone right now and that you were an intricate part in the plan, and, you know Harry, he's always thinking about the 'Greater Good' and—"

"Ginny, you're rambling." Hermione whispered, unable to do much more as she felt the cold knife of dread slip beneath her ribs. The youngest Weasley could not bear to look into her friend's honey eyes and turned away.

"He's assigned you to Ron's recon group."

Hermione froze, her entire body utterly still. She did not hear when Ginny quietly whispered her name; she did not feel the burning in her lungs or the tears that feel from her eyes; she did not taste the metallic blood from her lip. All Hermione knew was that she was ordered to work with the person she hated more than Voldemort at the moment.

"Ron," she hissed, "that **thing** that **murdered** my parents?"

Ginny flinched, pulling her hands away from Hermione. "Hermione, you really don't know how sorry he is." Hermione suddenly stood, violently flinging the picture at Ginny's face. The girl winced as the photo paper grazed her cheek.

"He's sorry? What right does he have to be sorry because last time I checked, 'sorry' won't bring my parents back, Ginerva!" Ginny bristled, clenching the photo in her fist at her side as she stood.

"Merlin, Hermione, it was an accident! He didn't purposely hunt your parents down and kill them. In case you haven't noticed, this is a war! Losses are bound to happen!"

"And what would you know of loss in your perfect little world? You haven't lost a loved one yet to this stupid war! Worse, you haven't lost someone and then have someone try and **cheapen** their death!" By this point, both girls had begun to scream at each other at the top of their lungs. They had also seemed to have forgotten that the door was still open.

"I'm not cheapening their deaths! I'm simply trying to get you to see this rationally. It was a mistake, a miscalculation! Ron is only human; you can't expect him to be perfect."

"He is a trained Auror, Ginny, certified two months ago, in case you forgot. Which means it **is** his responsibility to be accurate!"

The girls glared at one another, tears in both of their eyes as they drew in needed air. Hermione snatched the photo from Ginny's unsuspecting fist, clutching it to her heart. Flustered, the younger girl began to say something when a voice stopped her.

"Get out of here, Weasley." Both girls turned to find a glaring Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway. Ginny began to open her mouth to argue before she shut it, thinking better of it. Without even looking back at Hermione, she physically pushed past the blonde as she stormed up the stairs.

Draco turned to watch the Weasley stomp her way to where her family was consoling her pitiful excuse of a brother. He had heard the girls' screaming from downstairs where upon he raced up to catch the few ending and biting remarks. Sighing, he turned back to Hermione.

Stilling clinging to her muggle photograph, the Gryffindor Princess had crumpled to the floor, and hugged her knees to her chest as she slowly rocked herself. Feeling a pain in his chest, Draco quietly shut the door before approaching his lover. Slowly, so not to startle her, he dropped to his knees and gently brushed her fallen bangs. Hermione glanced up at him, her eyes glassy.

"Draco?" Nodding, he carefully lifted her into his arms and placed her on her bed. She turned onto her side to face him as he crawled next to her, his arm wrapping around her waist to pull her closer.

"Just let it out, Hermione." Undone by his tender command, a sob escaped her mouth as her tears finally spilled onto her cheeks. The sobs continued, broken by gasps and whimpers, their volume muffled as she buried her face into the cook of Draco's neck. He ran a hand through her hair, whispering in gentle French to soothe her.

He pressed his lips against her forehead, his knuckles brushing against her wet cheek bones as he allowed her to mourn for her parents. Draco Malfoy knew that she would not be given the proper time to grieve for her parents in this war. Potter, now leader of the Order since many of the old members had been killed, injured, or in a coma, was a man possessed. He had witnessed the Boy-Who-Lived's madness in the last few battles. He was obsessed with winning, at any cost; to him, the ends justified the means. Everyone had become expendable, including Hermione. The only one immune seemed to be his precious Ginny, who was never allowed in battle, which suited her fine. Her job had become to nurse the injured members and support her boyfriend.

Draco turned his attention back to Hermione, as her sobs silenced and her tears lessened.

-.-

Hermione stared at her hands, amazed at how still they were. She expected them to be shaking as they always had been when even thinking about her deceased parents. Perhaps verbalizing her memories helped her come to accept them.

"M-my parents," Hermione stuttered, suddenly unsure of how to proceed without breaking down again. Alexandra flinched, startled by her patient's voice.

"Please continue, Hermione. I think talking about it will help." She watched as her elder physically readied herself. She took a steadying breath and tugged at the sleeve of her uniform.

"They had been shopping in Daigon Alley when the Order struck. I hadn't known about the strike, actually, a lot of the members didn't know. From what I gathered later, Weasley had organized it in retaliation to a Death Eater attack on his brothers' shop a week prior. A lot of civilians were caught in the crossfire…" An overwhelming sense of guilt welled up in Hermione as she resisted the urge to revisit more memories.

"I had asked them not to venture into magical London. We knew it wasn't safe. Honestly, I don't think my parents ever understood how dangerous the situation truly was." Alexandra's forehead creased in confusion.

"How could they not? It was a war; people were dying every day! How could they not know?"

The witch glanced up at her healer, not surprised to see tears in the girl's eyes. She was a young girl, naïve; nowhere near the jaded and hardened woman she had been forced to become. Hermione almost smiled. The girl wanted to do so much good and help so many people; it practically burned behind her blue eyes. Hendrix had no idea how the world worked…and she had no desire to ruin it for her. The though jolted Hermione. For all of her anger and hate, she wanted the young healer to follow the idealistic misconception that she could change the world. Who was she to destroy this girl's dream?

"How old were you, Hendrix, about 13 years ago?"

"I was thirteen."

"And at thirteen, you had never been exposed to a muggle war. To my parents, a magical war was simply that: magic. There were no air raids, missiles, or nuclear bombs. They grew up with stories from their parents about both World Wars, the Holocaust, and Korea. To them, our war was fought in magical duels where anyone could be fixed by those same spells."

Sighing, she sagged in her seat. "I never had the heart to tell my parents the truth. I didn't want them to know how close I was to dying every day, how I was hunted and persecuted like Jews were by the Nazis. They thought I worked in the Order as a researcher or a healer…They never knew I was on the frontline every day. Perhaps if they had, they would still be alive today. And maybe if things had been different and Weasley hadn't been so rash, none of this would have ever happened. "

-.-

The day had broken gray and dreary as gentle rain pattered against the windows. Honey eyes blinked, distorting the image of water droplets running down glass that they had been focused on for the past half hour. The pale light that streamed into the room did little more than confirm her fears. It was morning and with it would come heartache. Hermione pulled the arm loosely wrapped around her bare stomach tighter, cradling the hand up to her chest as she pressed her lips to the scarred knuckles.

Draco mumbled incoherently and buried his face into the side of her neck, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Go back to sleep, love. It's early."

A smile pulled at her swollen lips as she felt him press against her back, pulling her flush against him as if to curl all around her and hide her from the morning. She could not help but desire to fall back asleep, safe in his arms as she dreamt of a happy future. But she knew that such an indulgence would only make a goodbye that much harder.

With a regretful sigh, Hermione wriggled her way out of her lover's embrace, tugging a silk brocade robe around her shoulders. "It's seven o'clock, Draco. Time to get up." Tying her sash, she heard Draco groan and turned in time to see him jam a pillow over his head.

"Who on earth gets up at this sodding hour?" Frowning, Hermione ripped the pillow from his grasp.

"On a normal day, I'm up by six o'clock." She resisted the urge to giggle as Draco squinted, his brow furrowed before he threw his arm over his eyes. "What does six even look like?"

Hermione smiled. He could be such a child.

She bent forward, touching her lips briefly to his. "It's dark." With a smirk, she yanked the blankets from his grasp, laughing at his indignant –squeal— groan at the cold. Hiding her smile behind her hand, Hermione held up a pair of Draco's black slacks.

"Come on, you need to get dressed." She knew turning her back to grab his shirt was a mistake, only to be confirmed by a throaty growl. The next thing she knew, a well-muscled pale arm like a vice was around her hips and his hand kept her from crying out. Hermione shivered as his warm breath hit her neck, her knees practically knocking when his lips touched her ear.

"You're overdressed, love." Expertly spinning her around, Draco now stared into Hermione's now clouded honey brown eyes. Smirking, he slowly, tortuously in Hermione's mind, trailed his hand from her lips down her neck, between the folds of her robe, just barely skimming her skin, to her sash, where he played with the knot.

"Are you my Christmas present, Granger?"

Hermione quivered at the nickname, her eyelids drifting closed at his low, husky voice, knowing what promises that tone of voice held.

"I-it's September, Draco."

Nipping at her collarbone, he slipped the sash from around her, "Mmm, I must have been a **very** good boy this year."

"That is **very** doubtful, Mr. Malfoy."

Hermione and Draco froze at the derisive scoff. "Professor Snape!" Hermione was mortified. She spun away from Draco, pulling her robe closed and picking up her sash. She heard Draco groan "Good morning, Uncle Sev," in embarrassment but mostly annoyance. She could practically see his stormy eyes rolling as he pulled on his boxers and reached for his slacks.

"Good morning, Draco. Miss Granger, I should have known better than to trust that you could get my godson ready in time." Blushing, Hermione tossed Draco his black sweater as she bristled at Snape's barb.

"He was just about to get dressed, Professor." She glanced towards him, self-consciously smoothing her curls, and caught his unimpressed expression.

"I'm sure. He was simply distracted, yes?" While Snape's comment alone was enough to make her blush reach the roots of her hair, Draco's muttered "Distracted, indeed," was the final straw. Frustrated, she grabbed her wand and magiced his robes on. Lifting his gaze to his Gryffindor Princess, who was now bustling around their room to distract herself from the situation, Draco glanced at his god father and asked for a moment alone. Nodding, the potions master left to wait in the hall.

Hermione busied herself with making the bed, no longer embarrassed as sadness replaced it. She could feel Draco's presence at her back but chose to ignore it. She fluffed her pillow and glanced towards the door, quickly

averting her eyes from the ivory mask on the end table and focused on feeling of her lover's hands as he took the pillow.

"I have to go now, love." Trembling, she dropped her chin to her chest in an attempt to stem the flow of her tears. "No, not yet," she whimpered, leaning back against his chest and pulled his around her. Draco glanced towards the ceiling, cursing the world for making him leave the beautiful creature in his arms. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head and pulled her tighter.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I have to go." Shaking her head in denial, she turned to look into his eyes, her tears welling at the edges of her own. "Why? You didn't do anything."

"It's all part of the double agent life, love. I'm called, I have to go." He pressed his lips to the crown of her head, running a hand through her thick curls. Sighing in resignation, Hermione tucked her head into his chest. "Why is the meeting during the day? Shouldn't they be by the light of the moon?" Draco winked at her. "Why to keep you on your toes, my dear." Kissing the tip of her nose, he embraced her tightly one last time before pulling away.

"Stay safe, Hermione. We'll be back tonight at the latest." As he reached for the mask, he heard her whisper.

"I love you, Draco." Smiling, he turned. "I love you too."

-.-

"And so Draco and Severus left to meet with Voldemort at 7:30 in the morning on a dreary Tuesday morning. However, the return home did not come as expected...

-.-

Hermione was startled awake by people yelling as they ran down the hall. She realized she had fallen asleep, once again, while reading by the fire in the library of Grimmuald Place. Groaning, she placed her back on the table and pulled one Draco's cloak tighter around her shoulders. She stumbled into the kitchen where all the head members of the Order had gathered. She spotted a flash of platinum blonde and felt herself become boneless in relief as she sank into her chair. Draco and Harry's heads were bent over a map as Draco muttered something to the other, pointing at the map. Harry nodded. "That's it. It all ends tomorrow."

Startled, Hermione glanced at the rest of the people at the table, many of them her classmates, who wore similar expressions to her own. It was only then that she realized that Professor Snape was nowhere in sight. Frowning, she returned her attention to what Harry was saying.

"..from what he has gathered, we will be able to end it all tomorrow night. The end of the war, guys, the end is so close! Don't lose hope, Lavender. Voldemort will never expect it. That's why Snape stayed behind." Harry continued to ramble, inspiring courage in his army, but her Hermione looked at her lover.

He stared at the map in front of him, his expression so carefully absent of emotion, so carefully blank…so carefully frightening. She noticed he was hunched over, his entire body language screaming defeat except for his blank smirk that scared her more than anything else.

Hermione stood quietly and made her way to cupboard. Ignoring the glance Harry sent her way before he continued, she poured some whiskey in a crystal glass and shuffled over to the quiet blonde. She set it on the table in front of him and pressed her lips to his cheek. "Welcome home, love."

The look Hermione received as he grabbed the cup and knocked back his first gulp rocked her to her core. It was a carefully crafted and beautiful mask, like his ivory Death Eater one, but she could see all the cracks. Guilt and shame oozed from his glassy eyes as his lip twitched in apprehension. Concerned, she sat beside him and pulled his free hand between hers. It was as cold as ice.

"Draco?" She whispered, praying he would look at her normally. When polishing off the alcohol, he set the glass back on the table as he kissed her forehead. "It's nothing, love. Don't worry about it."

He turned away from her then, participating in Harry's conversation when needed to, supplying answers to questions. Hermione however sat there as fear built in her heart with every passing moment. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Draco's hand hadn't warmed at all…Why was he still frightened?

* * *

I just wanted to express my gratitude to all of you who have taken the time to read this story and review it. I really appreciate it and you guys help inspire me. I know I have been lax in my responses to your reviews, please forgive me. The first year of university is a real doozy and sometimes I don't have time to really think!

However, I plan to MAKE time to write more often because I have missed it. THANKS GUYS!

Again, I am so sorry for the delay. Hopefully, I should be able to post chapter seven by the end of the month.

As a final note, I did finally make a quick teaser for "Virtue of the Damned" on youtube starring Natalie Portman and Leonardo Dicaprio. I have made a few more vids but I can't post them yet or else they would give the ending away! Check it out if you have time. FogetfulLove also made one for me! My user name on youtube is Lotus3. Hope you enjoyed chapter 6!

Read and Review!


	7. Left Behind

Previously:

_Draco?" She whispered, praying he would look at her normally. When polishing off the alcohol, he set the glass back on the table as he kissed her forehead. "It's nothing, love. Don't worry about it."_

_He turned away from her then, participating in Harry's conversation when needed to, supplying answers to questions. Hermione however sat there as fear built in her heart with every passing moment. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Draco's hand hadn't warmed at all…Why was he still frightened?_

_-.-  
_

Chapter Seven: Left Behind

"The meeting was quickly adjourned, with the order for rest," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Potter was so sure in his plan."

"Was it a good plan, Hermione?"

Hermione looked at Alexandra, seemingly to contemplate her answer.

She nodded. "In truth, it was. Severus had remained with Voldemort to maintain the illusion that the Order wouldn't attack. We were to invade Voldemort's 'conveniently' emptied stronghold in a blitz attack. According to the plan, only Wormtail, Bellatrix, Severus, and Voldemort would be there, the other sent to 'attack' the revealed Order headquarters."

Hendrix gasped. "Snape and Malfoy betrayed the Order's location?"

Hermione glared dully at the Healer. "No, they reported a false one." Shaking her head, she continued on with her story.

"That night, as I laid in bed with him, I knew it would be our last…I just knew it."

-.-

Hermione's eyes opened lazily, her body content and relaxed. While the storm may have raged outside, the warmth of the room and Draco's breathing drowned it out.

She sighed softly and curled into his embrace.

Something still wasn't right. But she knew now was not the time to ask.

Her entire body became limp as she began to drift off into the world of sleep.

A sob startled her.

Hermione felt Draco's arms tighten around her as he pressed his cheek between her shoulder blades. Still hanging on the vestiges of her sleep, she remained still and kept her breathing even. She attempted to open her eyes to wake herself to comfort him but she froze at his voice.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione." His voice was a broken whimper as he trembled against her. She remained still, knowing that if she made it known she was awake, he would not be able to be open…nor would she find out why he was sorry.

She felt his lips against her skin. "Please, please forgive me."

He pulled her even closer and she felt moisture against her neck:

Tears.

Wanting nothing else than to turn over and envelope him in her arms, reassuring him of her love, she felt her body become weightless as she was pulled into a dreamless sleep.

-.-

It was the cold that woke her up. She shivered and curled into a ball, pulling the sheet with her. She murmured his name. One hand risked escaping the warmth to brush against him only to find him not there.

Hermione sat up, blinking sleep out of her eyes. Yawning, she ran a hand through her curls and glanced around the room.

Draco was gone.

She frowned.

"Draco?"

Silence was her only answer. Sighing, Hermione dragged herself out of bed and pulled on her brocade robe. She slipped into her slippers before trudging to the door.

The hallway was eerily quiet and still. Even the portraits were silent.

Hermione repressed the urge to shiver in unease as she walked down the corridor. "Hello? Guys?"

Although usually the calm one, Hermione began to feel the edge of panic begin to creep up her spine.

"Hermione!" She spun, coming face to face with a panic-stricken Ginny. Her red hair was in disarray, strands falling from her ponytail as she visibly trembled. Hermione reached out for her but the redhead shook her head and shoved a piece of parchment into her hands instead.

"They left us."

Hermione's wide eyes locked with hers.

No. Impossible.

She quickly read the letter in her hands, her body developing a tremor like Ginny's. Tears of anger and disbelief welled in her eyes as she read the boys' enumerated reasons for leaving them behind, including their love for them.

Ginny had begun to hiccup as she drifted into hysterics, her breaths coming faster and faster as Hermione neared the end of the letter.

_What matters now is completing the mission: destroy Voldemort _

_We're not all going to make it back. _

_If that means sacrificing our lives, we do it happily. _

_But we can't lose either of you._

_Forgive us. _

_It ends today.  
_

"No." Hermione shook her head crumpling the paper in her hand.

"No." She met Ginny's wild gaze with her own.

"Damn it!" She screamed. This is what he had meant the night before. He had been begging her forgiveness for leaving her behind. Hermione let out a wordless shriek as she turned and slammed her back against the wall.

Ginny sobbed and fell to her knees, her arms wrapped around her middle. She rocked back and forth as she watched her friend sink to the carpet, screaming and tearing up the letter.

Molly Weasley froze at the sight of the distraught girls. "What on Earth?"

She dropped in front of her hyperventilating daughter and grabbed her tightly around her shoulders.

"Ginny! Ginny! What's wrong?" The redhead continued shaking and sobbing, throwing her arms around her mother.

Molly, completely at a loss, turned her gaze to the brunette who had stopped screaming.

The witch stared unseeingly at the pieces of parchment on the carpet in front of her, her hands hanging limp at her sides. She blinked slowly.

"Hermione?" The girl did not respond or give any indication that she had even heard her. She continued to stare at the torn parchment.

Dear Merlin, what has happened? Molly asked herself as she sat on the floor of the third floor of Grimmuald Place, cradling her hysterical daughter to her chest and watching a catatonic Hermione in concern.

-.-

It was hours later before Hermione came back to herself. She blinked, trying to bring her vision into focus. She struggled to sit up. Where was she?

The last thing she remembered was the hallway.

Ginny.

The letter.

Hermione gasped, her hand flying to her heart.

They had left them behind.

Draco had left her behind.

"Hermione?"

The brunette turned at Mrs. Weasley's voice.

"Oh good, you're awake." She shuffled into the room, carrying a tray with a cup of steaming tea. Hermione glanced around the room. She was in the parlor on the first floor, near the kitchen.

"How did I—"

"Arthur carried you down, dear." Molly sat next to girl and placed the tray on the low table before them.

"It seems," she stirred in some sugar into the tea before handing it to her. "That you were not the only ones left behind today."

Hermione accepted automatically and cradled the teacup between both of her hands, watching the Weasley matriarch through the steam. The elder woman sighed as she leaned back into the couch and stared into her fire. The lighting from it seemed to only highlight wrinkles and age lines that had occurred overnight. She seemed to have aged twenty years in the last twenty-four hours.

"Ginny?" Hermione inquired, her voice raspy, no doubt from her bout of screaming. She winced at the memories that flashed in her mind.

"Asleep. We had to sedate her. She was hysterical."

Hermione nodded and took a sip of her tea. The warmth washed down her raw throat, soothing it, and settled in the pit of her stomach. Unable to drink more, she returned the cup to the tray.

"Has there been any word?"

Molly shook her head. "None."

Both women sank into their spots on the ornate couch and stared into the fire, where they were lost to their thoughts.

-.-

"He's gone!"

Hermione's gut clenched in fear instead of the happiness everyone else was feeling. Harry and Ron along with the survivors of the Order had returned victoriously less than an hour ago. They now sat in the kitchen of Grimmuald Place, regaling their audience with their tale, though it had not originally been a happy homecoming.

When Harry had stepped through the front door, Ginny had launched herself at him in a fierce hug before she slapped him soundly across the face. She screamed at him for leaving her behind and pounded her fists at his chest as she sobbed her relief. Harry, for his part, held her tightly to him and apologized with gentle kisses to her face and hair.

Hermione had stood on the stairs, looking for her own man to yell at, berate, maim, castrate. But to her horror, he wasn't there. She flew down the stairs, shoving passed the injured to find Draco. When her search turned up nothing, she had felt the ice cold knife of fear piece the back of her skull as her vision swam.

She felt someone grab her elbow and turned in hope. To her dismay, Ron Weasley was holding her elbow.

She gritted her teeth and tore her arm away from him.

"What do you want?" She knew tears were falling down her cheeks and she didn't care. Ron took a breath, glanced at the floor before meeting her gaze.

"Malfoy's ok. He stayed behind with Snape to take care of some loose ends. He says he'll be back in the morning."

Hermione sobbed, her hand flying to her mouth to try and stop it. She felt her knees wobble, her body quickly losing her strength as the adrenaline left her. She knew she would have toppled to the ground if it wasn't for the boy in front of her.

"I gotcha." Ron whispered as Hermione collapsed. He lifted her and carried into the kitchen where the entire able-bodied household had gathered. He gently sat her in a chair and poured her a glass of water. She shakily lifted it to her lips and took a sip. She turned to the redhead who had sat next to her.

"Thank you, Ron."

He smiled slowly and nodded.

-.-

"So, they really did defeat Voldemort." Hendrix was engrossed by the witch's story. She had never heard any of this ever before.

"Yes, I suppose so. The plan had worked flawlessly. Bellatrix and Wormtail were killed during the course of their arrest. And Potter battled Voldemort and emerged "victorious."" Hermione used air quotes before rolling her eyes.

"He would not shut up about it for hours on end. He met reporters outside Grimmuald Place and told them what had happened. He made the evening papers. He seemed determined to describe the battle blow-by-blow and keep me awake through it all when all I wanted to do was sleep in order for morning to arrive that much sooner." The witch leaned back into her chair and stared at the floor, a small smile dancing across her lips.

"You know, I think he was trying to torture me, even then." She laughed and turned her attention back to the eager Healer who was sitting at the edge of her chair.

"So, what happened next?"

All the laughter that had been in Hermione's eyes disappeared and an icy honey gaze met Hendrix's uncomfortable one.

"Well, my entire world came crashing down."

-.-

"Hermione, Hermione, wake up!"

Hermione jerked awake at Ginny's frantic voice. She threw the blankets off of her and jumped from the bed. Struggling into her robe, she opened the door to her room to be met by Ginny's horrified face.

"What-"

"There was an attack." The redhead shakily held out a copy of the Daily Prophet morning edition. Confused, Hermione took the paper and read the front page headline.

"20 Dead in Death Eater Attack. Ginny, what-"

"Just keep reading."

Furrowing her brow, Hermione ignored the moving pictures of carnage and read the article.

"Following the triumph over He Who Must Not Be Named by Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, a Death Eater band of unknown number laid waste to muggle London in the early hours of this morning in retaliation. Survivors reported that the murderers were chanting the name of their new leader and Dark Lord, who assumed the title at the death of He Who Must Not Be Named.

"To all witches, wizards, and muggles of England, we at the Daily Prophet bring you the name of the new Dark Lord: Draco Malfoy."

-.-

A/N: Hello everyone. I know. It has been exactly 2 years to the day from my last update. I really must apologize for this.

Shortly after posting chapter 6, I was in a horrible car accident that broke my writing hand and had me in rehab therapy for a few months to regain ability back into it. Since then, I have become very involved in my studies, my original fiction (which I hope to have ready to publish soon) and my moviemaking.

I want to thank everyone who has stuck by this fic and who has sent encouraging reviews, emails, and pms on youtube. I promise that this story will be completed, not abandoned, and you will never have to wait for two years for another update.

Thanks again!


	8. Playing Games

Chapter Eight: Playing Games

"It was days before I could feel again," Hermione whispered, looking at her Healer. "Order members avoided me as if I was responsible or knew something about his ascension. I couldn't stand the accusing glares or pitying glances." Hendrix glanced away, uncomfortable, and scribbled onto her notepad.

"Was there any indication or hint that he would…that something like that could have happened?" Alexandra watched as the witch across from her blinked away tears in her downcast eyes and she shifted her gaze back down to her paper to give her some privacy.

After a moment, she spoke. "None. I refused to believe it for days. After all, if Draco really was our enemy, he knew the location of headquarters. Why hadn't he attacked us?"

Alexandra nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Yes, that would seem to be the most logical plan of attack."

Hermione smiled to herself, her gaze still focused on her hands. "I kept telling myself that there was some misunderstanding and none of it was true. Potter thought I had gone mad. So did many others. He had me confined to my room for "my own safety" and that of the others who were busy planning a way to _stop_ my lover.

"I think I did go mad for a bit there as I paced my bedroom day and night, getting very little sleep as I replayed the last 2 years of my life, looking for any indication that Draco could have done this. I ignored Potter, Weasley and Molly, my only visitors during that time, and did everything I could to reconcile reality. I even made lists.

"At some point, after a few weeks of Weasley and Potter's many sightings of Draco at their skirmishes, did I began to consider that maybe he had become the Dark Lord. And maybe that's what he had been apologizing about when he held me on our last night.

"I felt dirty. Tainted. And everyone made sure I knew it. I had held, kissed, loved and fucked the new Dark Lord. There wasn't a scarlet letter big enough for the guilt they felt I should feel. However, I couldn't bring myself to actually feel it. I was called a whore and insane through my bedroom door by cowards."

Hermione smirked as Hendrix shifted in her seat. "However, after many failed attempts and a number of injuries to the Order numbers, did our _great_ leader deem I was needed, regardless of my _sanity_. I was released and included in a reconnaissance mission."

-.-

The moonlight above drowned the forest in a cerulean blue and dappled her skin in shadows.

Hermione gripped her wand tighter as she moved from tree to tree. She forced herself to take slow and even breaths as she made her way deeper into the heart of the forest. She glanced over her shoulder to see Ron disappear behind a tree a few paces back. To her side she noticed Kingsley and Lupin continue forward.

_You can do this_. She focused forward again, minding the uneven terrain.

She stopped when Harry lifted his hand. He motioned for Ron and Kingsley's group to head left and Lupin's team to head forward. He pointed at Hermione and sent her right as he moved forward with Lupin.

Hermione glanced around her and noticed that only she was sent right. Balling her free hand into a fist, she silently walked towards the tree line with the intention of determining the location of any wards.

A twig snapped behind her.

Hermione spun, her wand ready and pointed at the darkness, a stunning spell on the tip of her tongue. Her honey eyes frantically scanned the shadowed trees for her enemy, searching from the floor to the tree tops as she cursed Harry for sending her alone.

_Breathe_. She reminded herself when her lungs burned for oxygen. She took a small gasp of air, frightened to make any noise.

Another twig broke.

Hermione swung her wand to her right towards the sound. Again, she was met with only darkness.

An owl called in the night.

Hermione felt ice cold fear fill her veins as she looked out into the night. It felt as if the darkness of the forest was growing darker with every passing second. She glanced up at the moon and swore it had dimmed.

She flinched as something else snapped near her.

Panic began to tense and immobilize her muscles. Something or _someone_ was stalking her. And she was all alone.

As the shadows seemed to surround and overcome her, she heard someone cry out off in the distance before red sparks were sent into the air.

An attack.

Hermione took a breath and began to make her way towards the sparks and sounds of a battle. Suddenly, she felt a wordless spell hit her in the side and sent her crashing into a tree. She gasped as the wind was knocked out of her but she reached blindly for her wand.

"_Accio wand_." She watched in horror as her wand flew from her fingertips into the hands of a masked Death Eater. The Death Eater stepped into a ray of moonlight, illuminating the cold, white porcelain mask on his face.

Hermione struggled against the spell. It felt as if a giant snake had coiled around her and the tree and constricted with her every heartbeat. She winced as the tree bark dug into her back.

"I assure you, Granger, all you're succeeding in doing is ruining your blouse." Hermione froze at the voice. It was familiar but she could not place it.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" She demanded in a horse voice. The man smirked, twirling her wand between his fingers. He dropped down in front of her and roughly grabbed her chin with his free hand.

"And of course, I'm going to answer to you, Granger. You truly are hilarious, little muggleborn." He tapped her nose with her wand before releasing her chin, chuckling.

Her cheeks reddened. "Well, I'm just a funny person." She spat, forcing her body to relax. The spell ceased its constrictions and simply pinned her to the tree. He obviously wasn't going to kill her or he would have already. _He'll probably torture me._ She suppressed a shudder at the "torture" the Death Eater would inflict on her. She again cursed Harry.

"My, my Granger, given up already?" Hermione glared at him but remained quiet. While her entire torso was immobilized by the phantom serpent, her fingers poked into the dirt, feeling for any sort of weapon. They closed over a small rock.

She watched as the Death Eater went rigid, turning and listening to the battle in the distance. She also tried to make anything out from the din of battle cries.

The Death Eater sighed, shaking his head. Hermione frowned.

"Why don't you just kill me and join your friends over there?" Her fingers closed tighter over the rock as the pressure across her chest lessened. She pushed slightly forward and it took a few seconds for the spell to kick in and force her back into the tree. The delay would be her only chance for escape.

"Are you that eager to die?" Hermione stopped at the curiosity in his voice. He seemed genuinely confused by what she had said. This could help her.

She shrugged and looked away from him. "We're all going to die someday. No one lives forever." She forced herself to fake nonchalance and keep looking away from him even as she shook in fear. She heard him move and drop to one knee right in front of her. She gripped the rock tighter.

"You're not the girl I remember." He whispered, reaching out to turn her again.

Tensing, she lunged forward, striking with the rock against his mask and forcing him to overbalance. He cried out in surprise and pain as the porcelain shattered against his face. He fell back, Hermione riding his body down.

She lifted her hand with the rock to strike again but was jerked back against the tree by the spell. She screamed at the pressure and her failure. He would surely kill her now as he swore violently.

He tossed the ruined mask into the forest with a curse and ran a hand over his face, checking for injury. He completely ignored her beyond the frequent "stupid bitch" and "why the hell am I doing this." He remained in the shadows, still masking his identity.

Hermione panted against the tree, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"Go ahead, kill me now, you bastard!. Don't make me wait for it."

"Oh do shut it, Granger! You are probably the most annoying witch I have ever met." The man stepped forward into the light, causing Hermione to gasp.

"Zabini?"

"Yes, you dozy cow. I think you broke my nose!"

Hermione stared, completely dumbfounded. Blaise Zabini stood before her, holding his swelling nose and stomping like a child having a temper tantrum. He grabbed his wand, pointed it at his nose and whispered a healing spell. A blue mist surrounded his nose and she watched as his nose realigned itself with a sickening crack. Grumbling, he pocketed his wand and picked hers back up from the forest floor. She flinched when he pointed it at her nose.

"That hurt, Granger. How would you like that?" She pressed back against the tree, fear flashing in her eyes.

"Zabini, no—I—"

"Just…don't talk. Do us both a favor and shut up." He stood up, gingerly touching his nose as he turned back to listen to the battle. Hermione closed her mouth, swallowing the scathing reply.

Pursing her lips, she shifted uncomfortably against the coils. "What game are you playing, Zabini?"

"What part of _shut up_ don't you understand? Brightest witch, my arse." He crossed his arms over his chest and tapped her wand against his shoulder.

Hermione bristled at the barb but wisely kept quiet. The two sat in the forest in silence as the battle waged on in the distance. She wasn't sure how long it lasted. It felt like hours but it could have been minutes.

At some point, Hermione turned her attention to the Death Eater in front of her. What was he doing? Immobilizing her and then what? He hadn't hurt her or interrogated her. Sure, he removed a powerful witch from the battlefield but, as was evident from the spell keeping her in place, he was a force to be reckoned with himself.

Finally, green sparks flew high into the night sky, replacing the cerulean with viridian. Seemingly shaking himself awake, Blaise took his wand from his pocket and pointed at Hermione. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for pain.

"_Finite incantatem_."

Hermione sighed as the coils disappeared and she was able to take a proper breath. She glared up at the man as he lifted his hood back over his head. He turned back to her, smirking.

"You may not want to mention this to Potter, yes?" He tossed her wand off to her right. Hermione's eyes followed its path before she turned back to him.

"Later, Granger." And with a pop, he disappeared.

-.-

The quill fell from Alexandra's hand.

"He just let you go?"

Hermione chuckled, smiling at the Healer.

"Yes, he did. Trust me, Hendrix, I was just as shocked as you. I couldn't even imagine why Blaise would do such a thing. Not only was I a muggleborn, a Gryffindor, and part of the Order, but on top of that I had just broken his nose." Here, she paused to giggle. "And yet, he did nothing to hurt me."

Alexandra bent forward in her seat to retrieve her fallen quill. She took note of her patient. She was smiling and quite calm as she thought back on the memory. She quickly wrote it down in her notes.

"When the rest of the Order found me later on, I was wandering the forest, completely dazed. They assumed I had been stunned in the early part of the battle and was ignored. I didn't bother to correct them. I had a feeling that if I told Potter what had happened, he wouldn't have taken it so well.

"I spent the time that morning back at Headquarters trying to make sense of what happened as I helped heal the injured from the fight. I was informed by Potter that he had seen Draco kill an Order member, Ashley Nuella, a witch from Spain who had joined a few months earlier. I ignored everyone and once I had finished, I shut myself back into my room to figure everything out. I would get my answer a few weeks later."

-.-

Hermione sighed as she moved forward alone again. The number of able Order members had dwindled considerably and now, as she had done the few other missions before, she travelled alone to her destination. Her goal was an outcropping of stones that marked the edge of the believed Death Eater hideout. She whispered a spell to search for traps. When nothing was recognized she continued forward.

"_Accio Hermione's wand_."

"Damn it, Blaise!" Hermione cursed, turning on the smirking Death Eater who dangled her wand above her head. She jumped for it once in a futile effort to retrieve it, causing him to laugh.

"I can't believe you actually jumped for it." Huffing, Hermione stomped over to a boulder and dropped down against it, her arms folded over her chest. She pouted as Blaise laughed harder.

She knew the drill. It had happened almost every single time she was on these missions. Blaise would sneak up on her, steal her wand and detain her from completing her mission or returning back to the rest of the Order. She noticed this only happened when a battle between the Light and Dark occurred,

"A battle again?" She asked. Blaise nodded, eyes still full of mirth as he walked towards her. He tucked her wand into his robe and sat across from her. Hermione closed her eyes and dropped her hands to rest in her lap. One drifted to press against her stomach. She opened her eyes and frowned. She had not been feeling that great that morning and the nausea seemed to be returning with a vengeance. She had not mentioned it to Harry.

"A bad one?"

Blaise shrugged, closing his own eyes and leaning against the mirror boulder.

"I never know since I'm occupied elsewhere."

Hermione smiled despite herself. Ignoring the circumstances, she realized she had come to look forward to seeing Blaise. While they did not hold the most lengthy conversations, after some prodding, she usually got him to talk to her about something interesting.

"Blaise?"

"Hmm?" He raised an eyebrow but did not open his eyes. Hermione sighed and leaned her head back to look at the stars.

"Why do you keep doing this?"

"Why do you keep coming out alone?" He countered, unaffected, eyes still closed. Frustrated, Hermione ran both hands through her curls.

"I'm serious, Blaise. Why are you out here looking for me? Shouldn't you be doing missions for Draco or something?"

"I am doing a mission for him." Both Hermione and Blaise froze at his admission. Never before had he acknowledged that he was doing this for any other reason than his own enjoyment, though she had had her suspicions. Blaise swore and stood up.

"Ignore that, Hermione. I didn't say anything."

"But you did!" She scrambled up, chasing after him as he moved down the hill.

"Please Blaise," she whispered desperately, grabbing his arm to stop him. "I have to know. I have to know the truth."

Blaise chuckled humorously, startling her. "What is the truth?" He whispered to himself. He glanced down at the witch in front of him and felt himself soften. Cursing, he pulled her to sit down with him.

"Alright, listen. I was never supposed to tell you this but, whatever, why not? Draco ordered me to protect you during the battles. I'm supposed to find you, keep you away from the fighting and then send you on your merry way after it's over, just as we have been doing. I wasn't really supposed to talk to you but you and your _charming_ ways broke that rule. Draco did warn me about them…"

"Draco ordered you to protect me? He…still loves me?"

Blaise started at her question, disbelief written clearly on his face.

"Of course he does, you stupid witch. What, just because he's the "Dark Lord" that means he's inhuman?" Hermione was confused by Blaise's manner as he continued on, scolding her. While his voice was mocking and insulting, there was some underlying message she couldn't make sense of. She knew he was trying to tell her something but she couldn't figure it out.

"And it's beyond me why he would even want to—Did you hear that?" Blaise froze, standing slowly, wand out. Hermione stood behind him, searching around for anything as well.

"_Stupefy!_"

Hermione screamed as Blaise was hit with a red light and thrown to the ground. Hermione fell to the floor, grabbing her wand from his pocket and pointed at their attacker. She gaped at her rescuer.

"Ron?"

"Hermione! Are you ok? I saw that bastard on you and I was scared!" He pulled her numb body into his arms, hugging her close. She turned out of his arms to look back at Blaise.

"Is that Zabini? Everyone was wondering where he has been." Ron kicked him in the side, Blaise's unconscious body absorbing the whole impact.

"Ron, stop it!"

"He could have killed you, Hermione. I know you don't like violence but this piece of shit deserves it." Ron moved forward to hit him again. Before Hermione realized what she was doing, she lifted her wand and cried "_Stupey_!"

Ron's body seized up at the spell and he tumbled forward onto Blaise's body, unconscious. Sobbing, Hermione rushed forward and shoved Ron off of Blaise. She grabbed Blaise's wand and shot silver sparks into the air. Seconds later she heard a Pop! and turned to find a confused Pansy Parkinson standing a few feet away from her.

"Granger?"

"Parkinson, you have to help Blaise." Pansy rushed forward as she spied Blaise, checking for a pulse.

"Ron stupefied him. He was going to hurt him and I, I—" Hermione broke off, choking on her tears. Pansy seemed completely uncomfortable and unsure how to act towards the girl in front of her. She reached forward and awkwardly patted the girl on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of him." Hermione nodded and turned to Ron.

"We need to make this look good, Parkinson."

"I understand."

-.-

"On three."

"My three or your three?"

"Just get on with it!"

"One,"

"Two,"

"Three."

"_Enervate_." Hermione pulled Ron to stand, wand pointing at Blaise and Pansy. Ron look groggily around, his eyes settling on Parkinson, who held an unconscious Zabini and had her wand pointed at the two of them.

"Next time we meet, I'll make sure it's the last!" Hermione inwardly grimaced at Pansy's threat. Rolling her eyes, Hermione took her turn. "Yeah, well, next time you shouldn't shoot people in the back like a coward, Parkinson!"

Pansy gasped at the "insult" and pouted.

"You must have me confused with your precious Saint Potter!"

"You stupid—"

"Forget it, Ron. She's not worth it."

Pansy huffed and sneered.

"Blood traitor." And with that, Pansy disapparated from the battlefield with Blaise in tow.

**AN:** Hey everyone. Here is the latest installment all the way from South Korea! Hope you enjoyed it! I've been abroad awhile for school and work and have been insanely busy!

I've reworked the outline of this story so it does not drag as much as it would have on the old outline. We'll be getting into the really stuff soon!

Please review!


	9. Broken Promise

Last Time:

_"Next time we meet, I'll make sure it's the last!" Hermione inwardly grimaced at Pansy's threat. Rolling her eyes, Hermione took her turn. "Yeah, well, next time you shouldn't shoot people in the back like a coward, Parkinson!"_

_Pansy gasped at the "insult" and pouted._

_"You must have me confused with your precious Saint Potter!"_

_"You stupid—"_

_"Forget it, Ron. She's not worth it."_

_Pansy huffed and sneered._

_"Blood traitor." And with that, Pansy disapparated from the battlefield with Blaise in tow._

_-.-  
_

Chapter Nine: Broken Promise

-.-

Hermione curled tighter around herself, forcing herself to take slow breaths. She stared unseeingly across the room as her thoughts swirled around her head. How could one person be so unlucky? Even Ajax would not have suffered as much as her.

A hesitant knock interrupted the oppressive silence of the room.

"Hermione?"

Hermione groaned, turning her face into the pillow. "Go away, Ginny."

"Hermione, please, I just want to help you." She called through the door.

A gruff, sardonic laugh escaped Hermione.

"No one can help me now."

Sighing, she reached for her wand and flicked it to unlock the door. Ginny immediately opened the door and stopped in the doorway. Her face was laced with concern and pity and felt moved to tears by the pitiful form of her friend. She was curled into a fetal position on the bed, clutching a black silk pillow to her chest. Her tears had long since dried up but salt left behind could not hide from the light.

"Oh Hermione," Ginny shut the door and rushed forward to the bedside, dropping to her knees. She reached out and gently brushed back the hair out of her face. Hermione winced slightly but would not look at her friend.

"Please, Hermione, please tell me what's wrong?"

"Ginny, I can't. I just can't."

Ginny frowned as she pulled the other witch's hand into her own.

"Hermione, you can tell me anything. I know things haven't been the best between us but please know I only want to help you."

Hermione finally turned to truly look at the younger girl. She felt uncomfortable being on the receiving end of Ginny's intense blue gaze. She knew she had few "friends" left in the Order and even fewer allies. No one wanted to deal with her for fear of being considered a traitor or even worse, offend her for fear of her wrath or the Dark Lord's.

Hermione slowly sat up, her eyes never leaving the redhead. She slowly reached her free hand for Ginny's shoulder. "Ginny…I-….You cannot tell Harry anything about this. Not yet. You have to promise me." She cringed as Ginny's eyes widened.

"What? Why? Is it something dangerous?"

"He will see it so." She said slowly, gauging the girl's reaction. She could practically see her processing this tidbit of information, jumping to conclusions within her mind.

Hermione pulled back from her, straightening as she did. She needed to be strong to do this. "Please, Gin, I need you to promise me."

Ginny slowly chewed her lower lip but nodded.

"Hermione, what is it?"

Hermione took a steadying breath, closing her eyes.

"I'm pregnant."

When Hermione's confession was met with silence, she opened her eyes cautiously. She was met by Ginny's wide-eyed stare, her freckles contrasting with her paler skin.

"A-are you sure?" She managed, smoothing her hair back from her face. Hermione nodded, slowly passing her a blue decanted potion. Had the environment not been so serious, Hermione might have laughed at her friend's bug-eyed look.

Releasing a long breath, Ginny slowly stood from the bed and began to pace.

"I-is it…his?" She asked without breaking her slow walk.

Hermione felt cold chills run down her spine at Ginny's voice. She looked down at her hand pooled in her lap. "There's been no one else, Gin."

Ginny stopped abruptly, her icy blue eyes glaring at her. "Well it's a mess for all of us now, isn't it?"

Hermione recoiled as if she had been slapped. She instinctively leaned away from her direction, one hand pressed to her belly.

"Ginny, you promised,"

"I know I what I said. You don't have to remind me." She crossed her arms tightly, as she continued to pace. The redhead muttered to herself, too soft for Hermione to understand, in what seemed as a debate. She could only guess what the subject was.

"Gin, please, you promised not to tell him." Hermione pleaded, still seated on her bed.

Suddenly Ginny spun and faced her. Hermione watched as Ginny's face practically transformed from icy anger to gentle understanding. The change was unnerving to watch.

"Look, I only want what I told you before: to help you, Hermione. So, don't worry too much. You've received quite a shock, I'm sure," she motioned to the forgotten pregnancy potion on the bed, "and you should rest now." Hermione watched as Ginny strode to the door, trepidation filling her veins.

"I'll come check on you in bit, Hermione. Sweet dreams."

The door clicked shut softly.

-.-

"I remember I sat there, staring at the door like an idiot for at least five minutes before I burst into tears again. I couldn't understand what had transpired between us. Merlin, I was stupid. I blame hormones."

Hermione smiled good naturedly at the very unnerved Hendrix. The Healer looked down at her notes, unsurprised to find very many question marks and unfinished sentences where coherent and proper notes should have been. She quickly sent a quiet thanks to the Discreet Quick-Quills placed in every interview room.

"So, you were pregnant…with the Dark Lord's heir." It was a statement, not a question. A soft, almost gentle smile formed on the brunette witch's lips.

"Yes, yes I was. Tears and confusion aside, I remember feeling so happy I thought I would burst." Hermione glanced down at her stomach and affectionately passed her thumb over the flat muscle.

Hendrix nodded absently, documenting the change in her patient's unpredictable behavior.

"But then," Hendrix glanced away from her notes at Hermione's unfinished sentence. Her expression darkened, her eyes glaring at some unseen enemy over the Healer's shoulder. "They sought to take that from me."

-.-

"Wake up, Hermione."

Hermione jerked awake at the voice, her body flinching from the tight tone. She rubbed her bleary eyes, attempting to make out the three figures in the room. Harry stood at the side of her bed, arms crossed over his chest. Ginny stood behind him, not looking towards her. Lastly, Ron stood by the door, should hunched forward.

"Harry? What-what's going on?" Hermione threw the sheets off of her and quickly stood, forcing Harry to take a few steps back from her.

"That's a very good question, Hermione, what _is_ going on?"

Hermione glanced uneasily between the three people in her room, suddenly lamenting the fact that her wand was in her nightstand drawer.

"Harry, I'm really confused. Why are you three in here?" She asked, even though the cold fingers of fear creeping from the back of her skull told her exactly why they were here. She struggled to keep from shaking or drawing any unnecessary attention to her stomach in case she was wrong.

Harry stepped forward again, now less than an arm's length away from her. Hermione forced herself to look up into his eyes, to pretend to be braver than she was feeling.

"I know, Hermione. _I know_."

Hermione carefully kept any expression from forming on her face. She stared straight into Harry's violent emerald eyes that burned into her.

"Know what?"

Hermione felt her face explode in white, hot pain before she fell back against the bed. She pressed her left hand to her cheek and looked over her shoulder to stare in horror. Ron had rushed forward, pulling Harry back, yelling at him to stop as Ginny tried to calm her boyfriend. Hermione felt rooted to the floor as she could only stare in shock at the boy she had been friends with since she was eleven. Tears blurred her vision and she felt a sob work its way from deep inside her.

"Don't play stupid with me! I know you're carrying the spawn of _Malfoy_!" He shouted, trying to push past the Weasley siblings.

Hermione turned from the fuming leader of the Order to stare at Ginny, who would not meet her gaze.

"You promised…"

"Your life is not your own, Hermione. You are a key member of the Order." Ginny stopped, glancing between her boyfriend and the crumpled form of her friend. Making a decision, she rushed forward and dropped to her knees. She reached out to touch her friend's cheek, but stopped at Hermione's flinch.

"Oh Hermione, I told you I just wanted to help you. How long did you think you could keep this a secret, hmm?" She reached forward again and brushed back some of the girl's damp curls. "Harry just wants what's best for everyone, for you. I know he didn't mean to…hit you."

"Ginny."

Both girls jumped at Harry's voice.

Swallowing, Ginny gathered her skirt and stepped away from the cowering girl, keeping her head lowered.

"Now, Hermione, you know I don't like being lied to, especially to my face. So I'm going to ask you a question and I expect an honest answer, ok?"

Hermione watched her friend in revulsion through her hair.

She nodded slowly.

"Are you pregnant with the Dark Lord's heir?"

The room waited in tense silence as Hermione and Harry stared at one another.

Wetting her lips, she nodded. "Yes, I am." She immediately shut her eyes, expecting him to yell or to even hit her again. Much like with her revelation with Ginny, she slowly opened her eyes at the silence.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Hermione stared at the hand that was outstretched in front of her. She glanced up at Harry's eyes before warily accepting his assistance. He gently pulled her to her feet with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

"Now, this isn't the end of the world, Hermione. In fact, this happens all the time."

Hermione slowly extracted her hand from his larger one, extremely disconcerted by Harry's bipolar attitude change. His slow and gentle tone of voice worried her more than his yelling.

"The way I look at it, there is an easy solution to this problem. I'm sure Molly would be more than happy to whip you up a potion right now to—"

"To what? You can't possibly be saying what I think you are. Tell me you are _not_ telling me to have an abortion!"

Both Ron and Ginny flinched. Abortions were still very taboo is wizarding society, especially among purebloods.

She could have sworn the temperature of the room dropped as Harry's eyes deadened.

"Do you think I would let you give birth to Malfoy's bastard?"

Hermione felt her cheeks flush in anger. "Who do you think you are, Harry? You think you can control me, control this?" She wrapped her arms around her middle protectively. "This is my baby too. And I will not 'get rid' of it!"

"Listen, Hermione, you are a fellow leader of the Order. People follow and depend on you. We can't have you pregnant with the heir of the new Dark Lord." He tried the new tactic of using logic and reason with her. "People could lose hope or suspect you more than they do now."

"Fuck the other people. This is about me and you wanting to kill my child!"

Harry's face flushed, his green eyes fixating on hers. "You will not carry that child to term, Hermione, whether by your choice or not. This child threatens everything we stand for and could destroy us all. I cannot let that happen."

"Wait Harry," Ron stepped forward, interrupting what could have been a very bloody fight, "what if we said the kid is mine? You know, we got back together and what not?" Hermione sent Ron a surprised but very grateful smile.

"The people aren't as thick as you, Ron." Harry dismissed the suggestion without even glancing back at the boy. He focused his attention on the girl in front of him.

"I will not abort this baby, Harry."

"Then it looks like we're left with two choices: you do the mature thing and decide to have Molly brew you that potion or an accident may happen."

"An accident?" She took a step back, her knees pressed to the bed.

Harry shrugged. "This is a war, Hermione. People get hurt every day. Sometimes from friendly fire."

Hermione paled as she slowly sank down back onto her bed. She kept her arms wrapped around her stomach protectively, glaring at the now stranger in front of her. Would he really send someone to deliberately injure her and make her lose her baby? Who was this monster?

Harry quickly spun on his heel, pulling a quiet Ginny behind him. Ron slowly, almost reluctantly followed.

"Think about it, Hermione. You have 24 hours."

He opened the door, sending the siblings through first. Ron hesitated, sending Hermione an apologetic glance before he followed his sister.

"By the way, we have a mission in one hour. Same as last time. You might want to be careful, Hermione." With a shrug, Harry exited her bedroom, locking the door behind him.

In one hour, she would have to go out into the battle field.

Only this time, she could not trust either side.

One side wanted her dead and now hers wanted her child dead.

She had no one she could trust.

Hermione fell back against the pillows, unable to stop the sobs that shook her entire body. The feeling of hopelessness spread as tears filled her eyes. She clutched her stomach tightly. _I will protect you. I will protect you. I will protect you.  
_

Somewhere, she absently registered the sound of the grandfather clock in the hall calling its eighth toll.


	10. Danger All Around

Disclaimer: I do not own anything...Or else HP would have been all about Draco and Hermione.

Chapter Ten: Danger All Around

Hermione pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders as she trudged down the corridor towards the main parlor. She pressed her right hand to her breast pocket, double checking for her wand. Her other hand drifted into her back jeans pocket, her fingers closing over the small switch blade she had packed. It had belonged to her father. She thought it was only fitting that she use it now.

She hesitated at the parlor threshold, taking a steadying breath. Could she do this? Was she stable enough to keep her senses in battle? Was she strong enough to protect herself and the baby from both sides of the war?

"Ah, Hermione, right on time." Hermione flinched at Harry's voice. She kept herself pressed to the wall in the back of the room frightened by the smile he was giving her. He was looking at her as he had for the past eight years, as if nothing had happened. She nodded stiffly in acknowledgement. When he turned away, she released the breath she had been holding. Who was this man who was the hero to the free world but her own personal monster?

Hermione ignored the other Order members as they discussed their plans, gearing up for battle.

No one spoke to her.

She didn't mind.

She was always sent alone anyways.

Left alone with her thoughts, she shifted slowly in line to the chimney, waiting for her turn to floo to a safe apparition point. Though at this point she did not trust the fact that she would arrive there safely. For all she knew, an ambush could be waiting for her just on the other side.

"Good luck, dear."

Hermione was startled out of her thoughts by Molly's voice, the woman who had tried to be a second mother to her. Her eyebrows furrowed at the wide-eyed expression Hermione gave her but she smiled encouragingly at the younger girl. Hermione nodded but did not return the smile as she stepped into the floo.

-.-

Her heart was pounding inside her chest, her legs burning as she sprinted through the forest. She quickly turned her head to look behind her, hoping to see no one. She gasped as the glint of porcelain was caught in the moonlight. Damn, she had not lost him.

Turning back, she pushed herself harder, panting as she climbed up the hill, sidestepping roots and rocks. Just as she reached the top, she heard the Death Eater viciously cast the killing curse. Hermione screamed and ducked under the jet of green light; the scream turned into a yelp as she tripped and fell down the hill.

Rocks and branches tore at her exposed skin as she tumbled through the brush. She landed hard at the bottom of the hill with a groan, her back smacking against the hard packed dirt. Dazed, she stared up at the night sky and took a needed, shaky breath. _Got to keep moving_. Heavy footfalls jarred her out of her haze. She rolled slowly onto her side and found the Death Eater struggling down the steep hill. _Well, my way down was faster_.

Cursing, she forced herself to her feet, stumbling away from the Death Eater chasing her. With adrenaline pumping through her veins, Hermione found the energy to continue on.

_My baby_, she thought to herself as she ran, one hand pressing gently to her stomach. Would all this running harm the baby? She knew that overexertion or direct trauma could cause a miscarriage so early on in the pregnancy but the other option would mean certain death. She knew she just had to make it out of the tree line and she would have a better chance at finding help.

Hermione screamed as arms wrapped around her middle. She was yanked violently back, her feet lifting from the ground. In all her times behind enemy lines, she had never been met by someone other than Blaise. And this Death Eater was most definitely not Blaise. She struggled against him, using her elbows to try and break his hold.

"Let me go!" She screamed, biting at his hand. The man cursed, dropping her suddenly. She landed hard onto the forest floor with an "oof." She groaned as she tried to blink away her spotting vision.

"Bitch." The man sneered, pulling out his wand. Hermione flipped her hair over to stare directly up at a wand and a mask. She squeezed her eyes closed and covered her head with her arm.

She waited for death.

"Bloody hell."

Her eyes shot open as she heard shuffling feet. She chanced a look at her attacker and was stunned to see the man stumble back away from her, a hand to his chest.

"It's you. I was just about…I just almost…Oh hell…" The stuttering man lifted his arm and cast silver sparks into the night sky.

Hermione scrambled to her feet, frantically looking around her for her wand.

"Here is your wand, ma'am."

Startled, Hermione swung back to face the Death Eater who approached her slowly, holding out her wand, handle first. She snatched it back and pointed it at him. Her arm trembled as her body was overcome with the fear and anxiety it had blocked during the chase.

"What the hell are you playing at?" She demanded, her voice scratchy and shaky. The man held up empty hands.

"I didn't mean you any harm, ma'am."

Hermione scrunched her forehead, her eyes wide in incredulity. "Didn't mean me any harm? You were trying to kill me! And why the hell do you keep calling me 'ma'am'?" She shook her arm with every question, the urge to jinx the man getting stronger with each passing second. He merely stood there, looking like a child being scolded by his mother.

The Death Eater shook his head but kept his hands visible. "I didn't recognize you." He offered in explanation.

Being the smart witch she was, Hermione realized the extremely odd and unique situation she was in with a seemingly submissive Death Eater but what in the world had caused the change? She held her free hand up to her head, a head ache forming from her confusion and emotions.

"What…"

Hermione was interrupted by a telltale Pop! Both turned to face a tall and disgruntled looking Blaise Zabini, his Death Eater mask nowhere to be seen.

"Dalton, why the hell did you call—Hermione!" He stumbled a few steps back as Hermione's full weight hit him.

"Blaise!" Hermione sobbed, throwing her arms around him.

He looked around in confusion, his arms automatically wrapping around her shaking shoulders. He eyed the Death Eater who had found her.

The masked man held his hands up. "I didn't do anything, I swear! As soon as I recognized her, I called for you, Zabini."

Blaise nodded. "Find Parkinson and send her to me." He ordered. Dalton nodded before apparating away with a loud crack.

With the other man gone, Blaise turned his attention to the witch in his arms.

"Hermione, it's ok now, you're safe. Tell me what's wrong." He soothed, running his hands down her arms. Hermione shook her head, burying her face deeper into his robes which did nothing to muffle her sobs. Blaise pushed her firmly back. He quickly scanned her body for injuries, frowning at the cuts and dirt on her bare arms. He gently ran his hand over a tear in her sweater.

"Hermione?" He prompted again, meeting her eyes.

Hermione shakily scrubbed away her tears, sniffling and hiccupping as she desperately tried to calm down. She tried several times to speak only to be overcome by tears.

She could not believe the wave of relief that had engulfed her when she had seen Blaise. She knew that no matter what happened from this point, he would be a part of the solution. She could not explain why she felt that he would help her or even protect her. She argued that it had been his pact with Draco that he had let slip but she knew that that was only on the surface. Over the last few weeks, she had come to almost look forward to their meetings and subsequent talks. She had come to consider him a friend.

And now, she needed him more than anything.

She nearly dissolved into tears again at the look of concern on his face. "Blaise," She choked out.

Still worried, he wrapped his arm across her shoulders and pulled her tightly to his side. He led her to a fallen log, gently pushing her to sit. Hermione complied, hunching her shoulders and wrapping her arms around her middle. She rocked slightly, trying to pull herself together.

Blaise kneeled, placing himself level to her. Hermione glanced up at the movement.

"Blaise," She tried again, this time her voice a whisper as her tears slowed.

He nodded, smiling gently in encouragement. "Yes. Now, tell me what's wrong. Did you lose a book?" He pushed some of her loose hair over her shoulder.

A mixture of a laugh and a sob escaped her lips at his attempt at humor. She felt her panic rise as she forced herself to speak. She could not keep it out of her voice.

"I'm pregnant Blaise," She paused, glancing up at her friend's stunned expression before returning her gaze back to the forest floor. "I-I just found out a couple hours ago. I don't know what to do, I'm so scared. I don't know how to protect it. I just..." Hermione felt herself babbling and literally shook herself to stop. She slowly looked up for Blaise's reaction, becoming nervous when he had yet to move.

"Draco's." She cringed at his sharp intake of air. It was not a question to him. He knew without out a doubt that the Dark Lord and his best friend would be the father of any child Hermione bore.

Hermione tugged at her lower lip with her teeth as she nodded. "Yes." She whispered.

Blaise leaned back on his heels and regarded her with guarded eyes. He was quiet as he digested the new information and tried to figure out the reason she was so distressed.

He slowly stood and began pacing, aware that her eyes were tracking his every movement. Sure, a pregnancy by nature could be worrying, especially to a young, unwed witch in the midst of a war.

He scoffed.

That alone could be reason enough to panic. But Hermione's fear did no stem from that. He could tell. She was the most pragmatic and bravest of the Golden Trio to the point of stupidity. He knew she already had contingency plans A through F.

He almost smirked at the thought. Those plans would no doubt require her to go against those who knew her. She was even brave enough to defy her friends. Hermione, no matter what anyone might say, was still desperately in love with the new Dark Lord. There was no way of denying it. And he knew for a fact that the witch in front of him would love any child regardless of its parentage.

So why exactly was she acting like her world was about to end? Shouldn't she be celebrating and singing from the rooftops or some other clichéd action?

He frowned, his forehead furrowing. _No. Way_.

"Potter knows?"

Hermione nodded tearfully. "Harry said that I can't have this baby…He said it would destroy the Order. He ordered me to have an abortion or he would kill my baby." She tightened her arms around her middle.

"Son of a bitch." Blaise cursed in disbelief. Saint Harry freaking Potter had to be insane. Who would order a woman, no less a best friend, to kill her child? He would have expected that from Voldemort, having been at his share of punishments and "experimentation" sessions but he was a sick bastard. He did NOT see that coming from the Boy Who Just Wouldn't Die, the Light side's blessed messiah and savior of the free world.

He turned back to Hermione, ready to spout off a rant on how he was going to torture the sanctimonious brat when Hermione flinched. That action caused Blaise to pause.

He walked closer to her and dropped slowly in front of her. Hermione immediately dipped her head forward, her hair falling over her shoulders and covering her face. He sucked in a breath at her actions.

"Did he…hurt you?

Hermione inwardly cursed at her stupidity. She had completely forgotten to cover the bruise across her cheek from Harry. Granted, she had been…distracted by the threat and the knowledge of her new baby but she was being careless. And that carelessness could cost her her life or her baby's.

She gasped as Blaise placed an index finger under her chin and gently tilted it upward. It brought the angry bruise into the moonlight. She watched his expression darken at the mark. He traced it with his free hand, careful not to hurt her.

"He will die for this."

Had someone told her 24 hours ago that she would be happy that someone was plotting to kill Harry Potter for her, she would have called them crazy. Now, that promise of protection and retribution made her feel safe and warm. Hermione sniffled, a small smile on her lips. He returned it.

"Thank you." She whispered. She felt him lean forward and gently press his lips to her forehead.

"You don't have anything to fear anymore." He returned, swearing to her. She nodded and opened her eyes, grateful for him.

The pair shared a quiet moment as they processed what had come to pass in such a short time.

A Pop! shook them out of the moment.

"Blaise? What's going on?"

Both turned to see Pansy Parkinson standing alone in the clearing. Like Blaise, she was missing her mask and was dressed in a simple but obviously well-made black cocktail dress. As Blaise stepped back and to his feet, Hermione noticed that he too was dressed in more casual clothes; in a pair of black slacks and a dark green button down shirt.

"I need you to stay with her, Pans. It's not safe for her on either side."

Pansy pursed her lips, crossing her arms. "And just where will you be?"

Blaise sighed, running a hand though his hair. "I have to go to Draco." He paused, looking back over his shoulder at the witch in question. "She's pregnant."

To Pansy's credit, she only flinched at the news. After a moment of stunned silence, she turned towards Hermione, her blue eyes full of questions. She frowned at the huddled form of the witch settled on the fallen log. She felt her heart twinge at the pitiful figure.

"Alright." She stepped away from Blaise. She grimaced as her designer heels sank into the earth but gave no other indication of her annoyance.

She sank down beside Hermione and crossed her ankles. She ignored that the witch beside her bristled at their close proximity.

"Go. I'll keep her safe." She dismissed him, turning to scan the surrounding forest.

Rolling his eyes but nodding his thanks, Blaise turned back to Hermione. "I'll be back." And he disappeared.

Hermione sighed quietly, her shoulders falling. She felt very uncomfortable sitting next to Pansy. The only interaction they had had was fooling Ron into believing it had been Pansy who attacked him, not herself. She looked at the girl over her shoulder and was startled to meet calculating blue eyes.

"It seems I'm always bailing you out of a spot of trouble, doesn't it, Granger?" Pansy drawled, though her voice was devoid of any true malice. She regarded the other witch with cool eyes, her gaze settling on her clasped hands over her stomach. They drifted back up to meet wary honey eyes.

Hermione felt like the prey to a snake as it considered whether or not you were worth the effort to devour.

She swallowed slowly. Pansy Parkinson could most definitely be a snake. Though she looked relaxed, even feline with her half lidded gaze, Hermione noted the tension in her shoulders and neck and the way her body responded to the sounds of the forest. She was ready to strike without a moment's hesitation. Hermione realized that Pansy Parkinson could possibly be a formidable witch.

"So it would seem." She said slowly, gauging Pansy's reactions carefully.

Pansy smirked at her, though Hermione swore it was the friendliest look the witch had ever given her. She was again struck by Pansy's appearance. She was not pretty in the traditional sense, but was striking. She had grown out her black hair to fall in a waterfall of dark silk down her back. Subtle layers framed her face, brushing her smooth porcelain skin and defined cheekbones. Her eyes were large and shockingly blue beneath thick, black lashes. Hermione smirked despite herself. She truly was the snake: deadly but beautiful. She just needed to figure out how much of the prey she was.

"What's so funny, Granger?"

"I'm trying to determine how much of a threat you are." She replied honestly.

Pansy chuckled, rolling her shoulders back and relaxing. "You weren't the smartest witch of age for nothing." She tapped her wand against her knees in boredom. "Listen Granger, Blaise asked me to protect you. I'm not about to betray my best friends by offing you. And from what it sounds like you're pretty screwed from all ends here, for some reason that escapes me. So, for what it's worth, you don't have to worry about me."

Hermione bit her lower lip, considering the witch beside her. After a moment, she nodded. "Alright."

Both witches sat in the night, the cool silence interrupted only by Pansy's wand tapping against her knees. Hermione uncurled herself to relieve the tension that had locked up her limbs, rolling her shoulders back. She gingerly shook out her arms to get the blood flowing.

"By the way," Pansy's voice caused Hermione to jump and look at her. Pansy tried not to smirk. "Congratulations."

Hermione froze, staring at her. Shaking herself, she sighed and turned back to stare into the forest.

"You know, you're the first person to congratulate me. So…thank you…Pansy."

Pansy glanced sideways at the other witch before returning to scan the clearing.

"Who would have thought…" She mused lightly, tossing her wand up into the air and catching it.

"You know, you aren't half bad…Hermione," She tested the name, frowning. "Could you have a longer name?"

Hermione surprised herself by laughing. "I suppose it is rather long."

"Whatever," Pansy rolled her eyes. "It's your name; can't very well change it. Though I suppose it is a step up from Granger…that name is just awful."

Hermione smiled good naturedly at the other witch, surprised at the ease she felt with her. Dropping her guard slightly, she turned now to stare at her flat stomach. Inside she carried her and Draco's baby. As the tension of the night slowly dissipated, Hermione allowed herself to take Pansy's congratulations and become excited over her pregnancy.

-.-

"We waited in that forest for what seemed for hours. It was probably only half an hour Blaise was gone." Hermione shrugged. "Pansy and I were pretty much silent during the wait. Let me tell you, that was one of the most stressful waiting periods of my life."

Hendrix nodded thoughtfully, more than a little blown away by Hermione's revelations. Everything she had been taught, everything she thought she knew about the Second Great War was wrong. Though usually a skeptic of her patients' versions of the events, she could not resist the tale the dark witch in front of her was spinning.

"I give all the credit in the world to Pansy for putting up with me. Though I wasn't a crying mess, she did tell me later that I would not stop fidgeting and it freaked her out. At one point she thought I was going to have a seizure." Hermione chuckled. "I honestly think our friendship blossomed from that moment."

"Friendship?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. Pansy would prove to be the closest friend I have ever had."

Hendrix bit her lip, something triggering a memory. She quickly flipped through her file, missing Hermione's amused expression.

"Here we go." Hendrix mumbled to herself. She ran her finger down a log, stopping at a name. "It says that she visited you once during your incarceration."

Again, Hermione nodded. "It was not a happy visit, Healer. We'll get to that later though."

Hendrix felt guilty as she set the Azkaban visitor's log down on the table. She wanted to apologize but kept quiet. After a moment, she picked her quill up again.

"So, did he come back?"

"Yes, Blaise did come back."

-.-

"We have to move."

Hermione and Pansy leapt to their feet as Blaise appeared in the clearing.

"What going on? Did you meet with Draco?" Hermione asked as she reached him. Blaise nodded distractedly and instead turned towards Pansy.

"You need to head back. The Dark Lord will return soon. The battle did not go well."

Pansy paled. She shakily ran her hands over her hair and dress, making herself look presentable. "Alight then."

With a quick nod towards Hermione, she disappeared with a Pop!

Blaise latched onto Hermione's wrist and began pulling her towards the tree line.

"Blaise, what are you—"

"You have to get back to Potter now."

"No!" Hermione yanked her hand from his grasp. She stared at him, completely at a loss. "I can't go back there, Blaise. He'll kill my baby!"

Grumbling, Blaise grabbed her arm again, ignoring her struggles.

"Blaise, wait, no, stop!"

"Listen to me, Hermione, the Dark Lord is on a rampage right now. It is safer for you with the Order for the time being."

He stopped when he felt her struggles suddenly end.

"Draco…doesn't want us?"

Blaise felt a pang at her heart broken expression, her eyes filling with tears as she tried to suppress panicked sobs. Groaning, he ran his hand over his face. "Damn it, we don't have time for this. Listen Hermione, everything is not as it seems. I spoke with Draco. He was very shocked but very happy at the news, though I now have to wait in line to kill Potter. Draco asked me to get you back to the Order for tonight. I promise he will come for you soon."

He grit his teeth as she sobbed. He grabbed both of her arms, drawing her closer and shaking her. "You need to keep yourself and the baby safe, just for today. Hide from Potter, lie to him, do anything it takes to buy you time. It's almost sunrise. I need you to survive until tonight. Do you understand?"

Hermione stared up at Blaise, tears streaming down her cheeks. She hiccupped but nodded tearfully.

"I do."

"Then let's go."

Hermione allowed Blaise to lead her to the edge of the forest. She could not begin to sort through the emotions warring in her head. She felt so confused by the barrage of fear, rejection and hope that rattled around. It felt like her heart literally ached.

She nearly bumped into Blaise's shoulder when he stopped. He scanned the field in front of them.

"There." He pointed off to the right, near an outcropping of trees.

"Go there, now. You'll find the Weasel there holed up with a couple other members. I'll cover you."

Though utterly confused by the rapid change in circumstance, she nodded numbly. Just as she began to go, she stopped and looked back at her friend.

"Thank you, Blaise. I trust you."

Though he didn't smile, he nodded and lifted his wand. "Good luck."

And with that, Hermione sprinted down into the field, knowing she was running away from the danger of the unknown only to head straight back into certain danger.


	11. Fight or Flight

**Hello everyone-This chapter was originally twice as long but I decided to split it up into 2 chapters.**

**A special dedication to ****aringle42! Happy Birthday dear!**

Chapter Eleven: Fight or Flight

"I made it safely to Weasley's hideout. By the time I looked back, Blaise was gone and I was left more confused than ever." Hermione paused, scrunching her forehead. "I suppose I should offer some sort of thanks to Weasley for keeping me safe for the rest of the night. He did not try to hurt my baby and he did not leave me alone for a moment until I was back in my room at the Order Headquarters."

-.-

Hermione tiredly cast a locking spell on her bedroom door. She knew Ron was just on the other side.

Waiting.

It unnerved her more than she was willing to admit. She did not know if he was waiting to protect her or if he was waiting for her to let her guard down.

The silence stretched on as she remained still and quiet, clutching her wand in her fist at her side. She finally heard him sigh before his heavy footsteps faded down the hall. Maybe he had wanted to talk…

She stared at the door for a moment longer before she turned the deadbolt.

She dragged her hand over her face as she stumbled away from the door. _Not much good that will do me_.

With a heavy sigh, she collapsed on top of her bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Survive.

For the next 24 hours, that was her mission. She just needed to survive; for both herself and the baby.

Sighing, she lifted her head to look down at her stomach.

"My baby," she whispered, caressing her stomach through her shirt.

Despite everything, she smiled.

She felt the stress of the evening slowly fade into the background.

Somewhere, deep inside, hers and Draco's child was growing.

She was going to be a mother.

The thought warmed her.

She would make sure she was the best mother she ever could be. She already loved the little person inside of her more than she thought was possible. She would keep her baby safe; far, far away from anyone who would want to hurt it. She would do everything in her power to keep the child safe from the War.

But she would never be free of the War.

The world would always scarred by it. She was at the crux of the matter: she embodied the violence, the passion and the hatred of the war. She was damned either way.

No matter which side won, there would still be casualties and there would still people to blame. For all of the self-righteousness of the Light, she knew nothing would change; there would still be prejudice, now just against purebloods that did not join the Light.

And "sympathizers" like herself.

That accusation hurt the most.

Hermione groaned, pulling her hands through her curls.

Why did anyone keep on fighting if nothing was going to change except for being under "new management"?

It was all so pointless.

Pointless deaths, pointless violence and pointless suffering.

It might be better just to let one of the sides win…

The brunette witch rolled onto her side to watch the rising sun through her window, its hazy golden red glow bathing her bedroom bloody.

By this time tomorrow, she would either be gone or she would be dead.

-.-

"You sound like you had given up."

Hermione raised her weary eyes to meet Hendrix's. "I no longer had a side," she admitted softly. "The Dark wanted me dead, the Order wanted to kill my baby. I had nowhere to go. At that time, it felt easier to give in than to keep fighting." She sighed forlornly and shifted in her seat. She hated talking about how hopeless she had felt; it made her feel weak and vulnerable. She had promised herself that she would never let herself feel like that again.

Alexandra Hendrix nodded slowly, unsure of how to continue the interview. Her patient's story had severely altered her normal procedure and she found herself falling deeper and deeper into it. She was slowly losing the clinical objectiveness she needed to maintain as a Healer.

She cautiously met the Dark witch's jaded gaze and knew that any professionalism she may have started with was gone. She recognized that she had been seduced by her patient's tragic story but honestly, she didn't quite care. All she knew was that she had to know the rest of it, no matter where it might lead to.

"But you knew that the Dark Lord was coming for you?" She offered weakly.

"I had no guarantee that Draco would rescue me." Hermione corrected sharply. "I hadn't seen him in months. Yes, I trusted Blaise. He had never hurt me or done anything to mislead me. I knew he _said_ Draco was coming. However, the way I was sent back to the Order left me confused."

"I see." Hendrix said weakly.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I don't think you do, Healer." Alexandra flinched at the low, dangerous tone her patient had taken. "I was terrified of the very people outside of my door. My best friends had all turned on me: one murdered my parents, one broke my confidence and the other threatened to kill my unborn child. I was trapped, with no way out but for the fleeting promise of a rescue." She gnashed her lower lip, running a shaking hand through her hair. "I was out of options. I wasn't used to relying on myself to save me. But I was not about to let Potter hurt my baby. I would have killed myself first."

"So what did you do?" The blonde asked timidly, her voice small.

Hermione smirked, her honey eyes darkening with wicked satisfaction.

"I fought back."

-.-

Hermione jerked awake at a loud bang, her wand immediately in her hand and pointed at her door. Harry and Ginny stood in the threshold, the former with his arms crossed over his chest. Ginny stood behind him, peeking over his shoulder.

Hermione slowly pulled herself into a sitting position, her wand steadily trained on her former best friend, wary of the wild look in his green eyes. As she straightened, she slowly dropped her free hand behind her. "Harry. Ginny. What are you doing here?" She tried hesitantly.

Harry took a measured step into the room. Ginny did not move but kept her cold blue eyes on the brunette witch.

Harry's voice came out low and dangerous. "Have you made your decision?"

Hermione forced herself not to let her panic show on her face. "Harry, you told me I had 24 hours. That was at 8pm last night. It's seven o'clock. I have one more hour." Her hand slipped beneath her pillow, her fingers brushing against metal.

Harry scowled, "I know what I said, Hermione." He paused, looking at her in disgust. "It's just that I've never known you to put off doing the right thing."

"Maybe the right thing depends on your perspective." She replied, closing her fist around her switchblade.

Harry frowned and quickly muttered "_Accio_ Hermione's wand." Hermione gasped as her wand flew from her hand, though she should have expected it. She forced herself not to let fear over take her and instead took a steadying breath.

Ginny scoffed and entered the room, passing Harry to stop directly beside the bed.

"You're carrying the spawn of Malfoy." She spat viciously. "That's not a perspective. That's sick."

Hermione whipped her gaze to the witch beside her. She glared at her. "What, are you jealous, Ginny? I know you had a crush on Draco at one point." She knew antagonizing her might prove to be a mistake, but she refused to let Ginny insult her child in any way.

"You lying bitch!" Ginny shrieked, glancing nervously back at Harry whose expression had darkened considerably.

"What?" He hissed.

Hermione ignored him and instead put all her focus on the redhead. "Oh, _I'm_ lying? That's rich. I know you watched him all of the time; you wanted him, fantasized about him." She grew slightly more agitated as memories of the other girl's actions. "But you know what? It disgusted him. He would never have touched you. Draco values loyalty; how could he ever love someone like you?" Hermione felt satisfaction flush through her body as she goaded the younger witch. She felt her confidence bloom from somewhere deep insider of her, unaffected by the overwhelming fear flooding her body.

"You've always been jealous of me, haven't you? I've always been smarter than you and I've always had the men you wanted; first Harry's friendship and then Draco's love." She drawled, dragging through their names like honey, a smirk reminiscent of her lover's spread across her lips.

Ginny's face was an alarming shade of red as she literally shook in anger. "You-you take that back, you whore!" She screamed, her hands fisted at her sides.

Hermione felt her smirk transform into a Cheshire cat grin. "People in glass house shouldn't cast stones, don't you think?"

It was as if the blood drained completely from the youngest Weasley's face and her eyes widened impossibly large. Hermione saw something shift in her eyes and something snap within her.

Ginny let out a wordless shriek, lunging wildly with her arms outstretched, ignoring Harry's yelled warning. Anticipating this reaction, Hermione rolled off the edge of the bed easily, watching as Ginny landed and bounced gracelessly on it.

Hermione reached across the bed and sunk one hand into the girl's red hair, twining the strands around her fingers and yanking the other witch against her body. She turned them both around to come into direct line with Harry's wand.

"Let her go, Hermione." He commanded, his green eyes hard as flint.

The metallic pop of a blade was his answer.

Hermione pressed the switchblade to Ginny's pale neck, ceasing her struggles. She stood slowly, dragging both of them to their feet on the far side of the bed.

"No, I don't think I will." Her lips curled into a smile as she looked down into Ginny's terrified eyes. "You never expected me to do this, did you, Gin?" She sneered, rubbing the blade lightly across her skin. Ginny whimpered.

"I mean it, Hermione. Drop the knife and let her go!"

"Why should I? So you can kill my baby?" She looked up at the ceiling in mock contemplation, tapping the blade against the column of Ginny's throat. "No," She met Harry's gaze. "I don't think I will."

Harry tightened his grip on his wand, taking a threatening step closer. "What do you hope to achieve? Even if you hurt Ginny, you won't make it out of this room alive."

Hermione pulled Ginny's hair tighter, arching her back, causing the girl to whimper in pain. "I'm not going to hurt her, Potter." She bared her teeth at him in a frightening smile. "I'm going to kill her if I have to."

The room descended into silence as the former friends stood off. Hermione tightened her grip on Ginny as she pushed her forward.

"Move." She ordered coldly, keeping the other girl in front of her as a shield.

Ginny whimpered but obeyed. She took awkward, shuffling steps around the bed, glancing frantically between the witch behind her and her lover.

Hermione tucked her face closer to Ginny's and out of Harry's direct line of fire. "Keep your distance, Harry."

Harry kept his want trained on Hermione but reluctantly took corresponding steps back.

They rounded the room slowly in a perverse dance, the tension mounting as the seconds ticked on.

Hermione stopped when her back was to the open door, pulling Ginny tighter to her. She sneered at Ginny's trembling and tears. "You're pathetic."

She turned away and smirked back at Harry.

"Now give me my wand." She hissed. Harry opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut when Hermione pressed the blade into Ginny's neck, drawing a small cry of pain and a thin trail of blood from her throat.

"It would be best that you do as I say, Harry." She said sweetly. "Levitate it towards Ginny."

Hermione could see the blinding fury raging in Harry as he growled out the spell and reluctantly sent it towards her hostage. She watched anxiously as her wand drew closer and closer. _Almost…_

She untangled her fingers from Ginny's hair but kept the blade pressed to her skin as she reached for the wand. She glanced tauntingly up at Harry, a smug smirk on her lips as her fingers danced breaths away from her escape.

Hermione gasped as the room seemed to shift beneath her feet in one violent thrust. She met Harry's eyes, her confusion reflected in his own.

"What—"

A sudden blast boomed throughout the building, knocking them all off of their feet, as the very walls seemed to crumble around them.


	12. Flight or Fight

**Happy Thanksgiving everyone!**

Chapter Twelve: Flight or Fight

"The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back, dazed; Potter had been tossed into a wall."

"What?" Hendrix furrowed her brow. "That doesn't make any sense."

Hermione smiled ruefully. "You're telling me. I was one moment away from grabbing my wand and freedom and then the next…floor."

-.-

A fine ringing in her ears brought her swimming back into consciousness. Her vision slowly refocused onto the slatted wooden ceiling above, the floor trembling beneath her. A dull roar crescendoed around her, the screams of people accompanying it.

Hermione brought her hand to her aching head, wincing at the pressure. What the hell just happened?

A groan not her own startled her.

She rolled gingerly onto her side and felt her eyes widen at sight before her. Harry was crumpled against a far wall; his legs limp straight in from of him and his head lolling towards his chest. His wand was nowhere in sight. She felt the tension in her chest ease at his unconsciousness.

She glanced over her shoulder at a feminine sob. She sneered at Ginny's sprawled form. The girl was awake but dazed, her eyes blinking wildly as she tried to regain her bearings.

Hermione shakily pushed herself to her feet, grabbing her abandoned wand. With a flick of her wrist, she tightly bound both of their bodies with invisible ropes, earning a confused whimper from Ginny.

Ignoring the girl, she swept the room, her gaze falling on Harry's prone and bound body. She lifted her wand, with the intention of cursing him.

He had done this. He had threatened her and her child.

He deserved this.

He was the reason she would become a killer.

She felt both her resolve and wand waver. "Fuck." She hissed, dropping her wand.

She couldn't do it; she couldn't kill him.

She wasn't a murderer.

With a final glance at Harry, she backed out into the hallway, stumbling over the unsteady floor. She used her hands against the walls to brace herself as she was jostled from side to side, feeling like she was in a continuous, rolling earthquake. The sounds of a battle raged on around her, the yelled voices and curses rising from the bottom floors. With renewed motivation, she forced herself faster, sidestepping fallen portraits and debris littering the floor as she made her way to the upper level.

She stopped at the top of the stairs, scanning each side of the quiet hallway for threats. It was eerily still, the muffled sounds of battle drifting lazily up from the stairs. She hesitantly shifted her weight to her right when she heard footsteps coming up the staircase from behind her.

"Damn it." She cursed underneath her breath as she ran across the landing to hide behind a statue; she absently noted that it was of Tecmessa Black, an ancient matriarch of the family. She died rescuing her child from a righteous Roman mob.

How fitting.

"I'm telling you, I saw someone run up here."

Hermione crouched lower as the footsteps stopped at the landing and a scratchy voice broke the silence. She did not recognize it.

"Dominic, I trust your sight about as far as I can throw you." Another man sneered.

"Listen, Rowlands, the Dark Lord commanded that we don't let anyone escape. I'm just following orders. Or would you rather be punished by the Dark Lord?"

So it was the Death Eaters who had attacked. Was _this_ her rescue party?

"Of course not, you idiot; I just know that we've already cleared this floor—round up each and every last one of them up here. No one got past us on the lower floor; there was no one there."

Hermione rolled her eyes; evidently these two geniuses were as thorough as Crabbe and Goyle if they missed her bedroom with the Great Harry Potter trussed up like a Christmas Day ham.

"Fine, fine. It's clear up here anyways."

She held her breath as the two Death Eater's footsteps echoed down the staircase.

Once she could no longer hear them, she sighed in silent relief, pressing her forehead against the cool marble statue.

"Hiding isn't a flattering trait for an Order Member." Hermione gasped at the feminine voice. She peeked from behind the statue to find a robed Death Eater on the landing.

"Pansy?" She gasped out disbelievingly.

"Recognize me, do you?" Pansy taunted as she removed her mask. "Why don't you stop playing hide and seek and come out from behind there, huh?" Her lips twitched into a sneer. "I didn't know Order members were cowards."

Hermione was practically vibrating with adrenaline and her body was screaming at her to run. She cautiously stepped away from safety of the statue, her wand held loosely at her side.

She almost smirked as Pansy's jaw dropped.

"Hermione?" She shook her head as if to clear her vision. "Are you alright?" She asked, taking a step towards her before she froze. She cocked her head to the side, bright blue eyes narrowed. It seemed as if she was scanning her, thinking the situation through. She slowly raised her wand.

"How do I know you're Hermione?"

"I haven't run screaming into battle yet, have I?" Hermione let out a stressed sigh, still shaking. "How do I know you're the real Pansy Parkinson for that matter?"

"Well, I haven't cursed or attacked you yet, so I suppose that's a good sign…" She trailed off, pursing her lips. Hermione could only manage to raise an eyebrow.

After a moment, Pansy lowered her wand and offered her a tentative but genuine smile.

"You're Hermione."

A sound between a laugh and a sob escaped Hermione as she felt her strength leave her. She nodded tearfully as she sank to her knees, trying to breathe in between sobs. She never thought she would ever feel so relieved to see Pansy Parkinson but there was a first time for everything.

Pansy rushed to her side, dropping to the carpet beside her. She wrapped one arm around her shoulders. "You're ok, Hermione. We're here to rescue you."

Hermione nodded, her gasps for breath coming quicker as the stress and fear of the evening washed over her. She leaned into the other girl's body, taking the comfort she was offering.

Pansy warily kept an eye on the hall as she smoothed back Hermione's hair.

"It's alright, it's alright. You're safe now."

"Damn it! Hold them back!"

Hermione and Pansy spun at the yell, the beginnings of a duel a floor below startling them.

Pansy pulled them to their feet, still keeping her arm wrapped around the other girl.

"That was Dominic's voice." She hissed, tugging Hermione away from the landing. "That means they've been compromised. Dumb shits."

Hermione toddled behind Pansy, glancing over her shoulder as the sounds of the fight escalated. "What does that mean?"

Exasperated, Pansy yanked Hermione around a corner. "What that means is some Order members found them and are now attacking our forces. We have to get out of here. Quickly."

Hermione instantly knew who had found them. "It's Harry."

"Shit."

Hermione could not agree more.

Pansy stopped abruptly in front of a plain door before pulling them into the empty bedroom, warding the door behind them. She let go of Hermione's hand and rushed to the far corner of the room, tapping her wand randomly at the wood paneling as she went.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Pansy spared Hermione a withering glare, never stopping her search. "Potter doesn't know the only Black family member to have lived in this home. A-hah!" She cried out in success as her wand passed over a hollow in the wood. She tapped her wand in a triangle pattern three times over the peeling whitewashed panel.

The neglected wood seemed to shiver and take on a liquid quality, pulsing and undulating as Pansy took a step away. It quivered momentarily, as if trying to decide if it was solid or not, before a door-sized portion of the wall disappeared and revealed a hidden staircase.

Hermione gaped.

Pansy grinned. "See what a little faith—"

"I saw them go in here!"

Hermione gasped at Harry's voice. She spun, facing the closed door.

Pansy paled. She reached out and grabbed Hermione by the wrist. "Come on!" She pulled Hermione as they stumbled towards the secret passageway.

The witches raced up the spiral staircase just as the bedroom door crashed open. Hermione tried to keep the mind-numbing fear from her taking over her body. "Pansy," she gasped out. "Where are we going? They're going to find us!" She clung to other girl's hand, tightening her grasp as new, heavier footsteps joined their own.

"We're almost there. Keep moving." She ordered, her heels clacking loudly against the wooden stairs.

Hermione nodded to herself, keeping one step behind Pansy. She tried to ignore the echoing thumps that loomed behind them and trusted that Pansy had a plan. Hopefully that plan included their escape.

"_Stupefy_!"

Hermione screamed as the red jet struck the wall left of her head. Without slowing, Pansy sent back her own stunner, hoping it would at least slow them down.

"We've got to hurry." She gasped out.

Both girls raced onto the next floor. They paused for a moment to catch the breaths.

"Hermione," Pansy called, gesturing to the threshold they just passed. "Brace your hands against the door frame and think '_wards._' Don't look at me like that, just do it!" She pulled her wand up, aiming it at the open staircase as the sounds of Harry and his followers drew nearer.

Despite being terrified at the thought of being so vulnerable and exposed, Hermione had no choice but to trust Pansy. She had to do this; she had to do this for her baby. The alternative was unthinkable.

She bit her lower lip and hesitantly reached out to the wooden frame. Her hands convulsed the instant she made contact. It felt as if electricity surged through her arms; as if the walls of the house itself were swelling with the feeling. Her breath hitched in her throat as the floor trembled with the pounding footsteps below. _Please work,_ she whispered desperately into her mind.

_Wards._

Warmth travelled from the tips of her fingers and down to her toes, encircling her in a cocoon of invisible light. Hermione bathed in it, shivering as the raw power flowed into her veins. It was ancient magic; that much she could tell. It felt like Dark Magic, seductive and forbidden. However, the black coldness that should normally accompany it was strangely missing. Instead the magic seemed to fuse with her very soul, causing her to arch her back as her feet lifted off the ground.

She vaguely heard Pansy cry out for her as the power raised her higher into the air. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as the magic easily pierced the defenses of her mind and bombarded her with hundreds of images.

_A red-headed witch cradled an infant in her arms. _

Flash!

_A man and women dressed in ancient Roman clothing ascending marble thrones hand in hand._

Flash!

_A dark-haired woman charging into a mob to rescue the child being stoned_.

Flash!

_Three sisters, a brunette, a redhead and a blonde, solemnly watching their parents disown and cast out a dark haired boy. "You are no family of ours!" The boy turned to face his cousins before running from their home and into the night._

Flash!

_The same sisters were outside, the older brunette stood before the redhead, screaming at her as rain pelted the field around them. "How dare you betray our family! You are no better than a bloodtraitor!" Hermione could not tell if there were tears on the older sister's face or if it was the rain. _

"_I love him!" The redhead sobbed._

_The brunette sneered. "You are not my sister!" _

_The blonde stood behind her eldest sister, her eyes filled with sadness and shame. _

Flash!

_The blonde turned on her sisters, shoving them both away from each other. "Stop this! We are family; the same blood. Our blood will never change!"_

Hermione sobbed, tears streaming from her closed eyes. The warmth slowly expanded, growing around her before it exploded, shooting up towards the ceiling, spreading out to the walls and swallowing the room in a white mist. It crawled slowly, snaking around both witches. Pansy gasped at the feeling, shaking as she was enveloped in the sensation.

"Hermione?" She cried out, uncertainty creeping into her voice. This was not what she had expected.

She warily glanced back at the open threshold where Hermione was suspended midair. She could hear Potter and his group clearing the last bend of the spiral.

"Come on, Hermione. Whatever you're doing up there, finish it now!"

As if on cue, blinding, white light burst from Hermione's body, shrouding the entire room in it. Pansy fell to her knees, covering her face. She heard Potter's arrival as they too came in contact with the light, crying out it surprise and fear.

The light intensified, causing the room to shake as a shriek of power filled the room.

Pansy realized it came from Hermione.

The light swirled around her, gaining speed and strength. The vortex produced a wind that violently whipped around their bodies. Pansy shut her eyes as the scream and wind crescendoed.

As suddenly as the light began, it collected in a whoosh of energy and disappeared back into Hermione's body.

The witch remained suspended in midair a moment more before she slowly descended back to the ground. Pansy lifted her head cautiously and gaped at the display, her wand loosely pointed at the stunned Order members.

Hermione sighed as her feet made contact with the floorboards, her arms falling limply at her side. The visions she had seen…She shook her head as if to clear the residual "fuzziness" of her mind…She recognized some of them…Tecmessa…Sirius…Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa Black…What on earth had she just experienced?

She opened her eyes and let out a muffled gasp as she came face to face with Harry, his expression contorted by fury. His eyes blazed as his mouth moved in silent shouts. She stumbled backwards into the slowly standing Pansy, knocking the other witch's wand away. Pansy steadied her friend with one arm before passing Hermione her fallen wand.

"Are you alright?" She whispered shakily.

Hermione nodded, unsure if she could speak. Her throat was raw, as if she had swallowed broken glass. The mist remained, drifting in small clouds around the room. The silence unnerved her; all she could hear was hers and Pansy's breaths.

Both girls watched quietly as the Order members renewed their efforts to force their way past the threshold, their obvious shouts of anger and frustration completely silenced by the barrier that kept them away.

Hermione cried out as her stomach suddenly throbbed. She pressed her hands over her belly, turning her gaze to the taller witch next to her. "What the hell was that?" Her voice was gravelly and hoarse.

Pansy pursed her lips in concern as she pressed her hand gently to Hermione's stomach. She waited for a moment for the pulse. Pansy smirked when she felt it. "Blood rites." She turned back to Potter's group and stuck her tongue out at them, laughing as their curses bounced harmlessly off of the barrier.

Hermione's eyes widened in comprehension. "Blood rites? Ancient blood magic?" She flinched as her stomach pulsed again. "You had me tie my baby to ancient magic that could kill it and me both?"

Pansy rolled her eyes, tucking her wand into her robe pocket. "Well it worked, didn't it? It's keeping the merry blood-thirsty crew out there and keeping us nice and safe in here, isn't it? At least for the moment…" She turned her back on the doorway and began inspecting the room. "In any case," she continued, pushing back the dusty, velvet curtains from the only window in the room, peering out into the night through the dirty lead glass, "this proves you really are pregnant with Draco's child."

Hermione spun around, her brow furrowed. "What?"

Pansy shrugged nonchalantly. "The blood magic will only work for someone with Black blood. Your child is one fourth Black, ergo…" She made a sweeping gesture with her hand. "You enacted the wards of the Ancient House of Black. The way it was explained to me didn't include that impressive little light show you gave but the wards will prevent the spells of those you deem dangerous to you or the baby from passing that barrier. " She pointed to the angry crowd standing on the landing. "It's not foolproof but it should keep us safe long enough."

Hermione regarded the group warily, nodding absently. "Long enough?" She asked in a small voice, her eyes never leaving her former friends.

"Blaise is on his way." Pansy announced, walking back up to the other witch. "They were waiting for us to enact the wards; that's their signal."

"They?"

Pansy nodded with a smile. "Yes, 'they.' Blaise _and_ Draco are coming to the rescue."

Hermione smiled brightly and pulled Pansy into a quick hug, squeezing the poor Slytherin tightly. "Oh thank Merlin."

"Hormones…." Pansy rolled her eyes but returned the hug nonetheless. "And here I was thinking you had come to like my company."

Hermione smiled, wiping her moistening eyes. "Thank you, Pansy. I mean it."

-.-

"You were on the verge of being rescued."

"Yes, I was. You have no idea the absolute elation and utter relief I felt at that moment." Hermione looked down at the hands in her lap, a small smile on her lips. "I was going to be free."

Hendrix regarded her silently. She was thin, almost fragile looking. As she noted earlier, the Dark Queen was fidgety, playing with her long hair during particularly difficult memories or clenching her fist when she spoke of her enemies. She kept aware of her surroundings, flinching unconsciously at every foreign sound in the room. Everything about her appearance and file screamed a prisoner suffering from years in Azkaban.

However, beneath the years of incarceration and solitude, Hermione displayed a ferocity she had never encountered in her patients. She was direct and lucid, not raving or paranoid; she yearned for freedom but she did not beg for it; she was calculating and determined.

All in all, Hermione Malfoy was not as she should be.

"Don't hurt yourself thinking, Hendrix."

Alexandra jumped at the mocking voice. She met Hermione's smirk with a nervous smile.

"How do you—"

"Know?" Hermione exhaled a brief and delicate laugh. "Brightest witch of my age, remember?"

-.-

"How much longer can that ward hold?"

Pansy shrugged, eyeing the weakening barrier as it was barraged by different spells. "Hopefully long enough." She cringed as it shuddered again.

Hermione stood, sighing in frustration. "I can't just sit here watching them!"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. The orders are to wait here."

"Dramatic? Harry fucking Potter is standing just on the other side of that threshold and wants to kill me! I hardly think I am being dramatic."

"You need to breathe, Hermione," Pansy soothed, placing a hand on her arm. "This added stress is not good for us or the baby."

Hermione shook her off and instead wrapped her arms around herself. "I can feel it weakening, Pansy; inside."

"What do you mean?"

"Every spell, I feel it. Especially his." She motioned back towards the ward. "His almost make it through." She squeezed her eyes shut as she doubled over in pain.

Pansy cried out, rushing to her side.

"It's not going to hold," she repeated, gritting her teeth. "This house is his. The wards will break."

Alarmed, Pansy cursed, pulling the other witch up and away from the thinning barrier. "Fuck, you're right." She pushed Hermione behind her and took up a fighting stance, her wand pointed at their enemies.

"When they come through, you stay behind me. Hide if you must. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded, wincing again as her stomach throbbed. "Pansy, the pain is getting worse. I think they're almost through."

Both witches whipped around to face the barrier.

The ward shimmered dangerously, shifting from clear to blue and back again. Hermione gasped, clutching her stomach as it vibrated, corresponding with the ward. She watched in horror as it seized up, holding utterly still before shattering. It disintegrated into a fine dust as a red jet pierced the room, striking the wall behind her. She screamed, ducking behind Pansy who quickly shot off her own offensive spells.

Hermione pulled out her wand and cast a shield spell around her and Pansy as the room was filled with shouted curses and bright, colorful lights. Pansy dueled the group of four Order members skillfully, dodging vicious jinxes from Ginny and half-hearted attacks from her brother. Harry's rage was palatable as his spells aimed at Hermione were deftly intercepted by the Death Eater.

Hermione tried to help her protector but every time she attempted an offensive spell, Pansy would knock her wand away with her free hand.

"Just keep the shield spell up. Concentrate on that." She ordered breathlessly before sending a stunning spell at Neville, knocking him clear across the room to crumple against the wall, unconscious.

Hermione did as she was told and focused on maintaining her protective spell. Her hands shook as sweat beaded along her hairline.

She had never had such a difficult time with a spell as she was now. It was taking all of her energy just to remain standing.

She kept her eyes trained on Harry, fear coursing through her veins like venom, seizing her heart every time he attacked. He was feral, like a wild wolf, his green eyes practically glowing in rage. A smirk spread across his lips.

_You will not escape!_

Hermione gasped at the invading voice in her mind, pulling her wand away. And that was all of the distraction they needed.

"Now!" Harry roared.

Pansy screamed in shock as Ginny and Ron turned all of their efforts onto her alone, their spells now only deflected by her own parries. She planted her feet and gnashed her teeth at the effort.

"Hermione!" She ground out, reaching blindly for the witch who was no longer behind her.

Somewhere during the renewed assault, Hermione had become separated from her protector.

She started wide-eyed in horror as Harry advanced on her. She backed up slowly, her wand hanging uselessly at her side.

_No…_

She couldn't move.

Her throat tightened painfully.

She couldn't cry out.

Her body was screaming at her to run. To fight. To do something.

But she was frozen.

She now understood people who were paralyzed by fear.

"Hermione!" Pansy screamed from across the room, pinned down by her two opponents. She attempted to side step Ron but was stuck in the shoulder and knocked off her feet by a stunning spell from Ginny.

"You should have listened to me, Hermione." She flinched at Harry's voice, shutting her eyes as her back met the wall. "None of this would have had to have happen." She whimpered, turning her face away from him.

"Please, Harry, _please._ Don't do this." She begged. Her grip on her wand weakened slowly as tears welled behind her closed eyes.

Her wand clattered loudly against the wood floor.

Harry paused in his pursuit, taking in the pathetic form of his friend; defenseless and terrified.

He hesitated a moment more before he raised his wand. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "_Crucio!_"

Hermione screamed when the spell hit.

She collapsed to the floor, curling in onto herself as the spell wracked her body. Angry, blood red pain bloomed behind her eyelids as she convulsed uncontrollably. Her hands spasmed into fists, her nails biting into her palms, drawing rivulets of blood.

She had never known such pain.

She shrieked as the spell traveled from her extremities and centralized on her core; her stomach.

She gasped painfully for breaths as her lungs burned for oxygen. She rolled to her side to abate the pain. Instead, it ignited more.

"Please!" She managed between sobs of pain. She was not begging for her own life. She was begging for her child's.

And he didn't care.

"Just a bit longer…"She heard him mutter to himself.

And in that moment, Hermione knew true hate.

"NO!" She screamed as she forced her eyes open and reached around for her wand. She struggled under the force of the spell, shaking violently as she crawled slowly across the floor. She dug her nails into the floorboards to pull herself, ignoring the pain.

She had to get to her wand.

She stretched out her quaking fingers, breaths away from the piece of wood.

She absently recognized the familiar scene she was in again.

"Sorry, Hermione." Harry's boot filled her vision as he kicked away her wand.

Hermione shrieked in frustration, slamming her hand against the floor.

He bent down to her level, maintaining the Dark curse. He reached out with his free hand and gently brushed away the hair in her face. Hermione tried to glare at him.

"It's for the best, Hermione." He whispered.

She shook her head violently, gnashing her teeth. ".you." She bit out, flinching away from his touch.

He frowned. He straightened himself to his feet and turned his attention away from her. "Ron! Kill Parkinson if you must."

That moment of inattention was all she needed.

She drew from strength she didn't know she had and kicked her leg out, striking Harry in the shin. Potter cried out in surprise, breaking his concentration.

The _Crucio_ lifted.

Hermione sighed as the pain abated, a sob escaping her throat. She opened her eyes and met green eyes hard as slate. She cringed as she steeled herself for round two.

"_Stupefy!"_

Hermione watched in complete shock as Harry was stuck by an angry red jet of magic and was thrown back against the wall, much like Neville had. She rolled onto her side in time to see a cadre of black robed and masked wizards filling the room, attacking Ginny and Ron. She wondered if Pansy had survived…

"Hermione!"

She hadn't realized she had closed her eyes. When she opened them, she found herself staring into Blaise's hysterically worried face. Hermione had an urge to laugh. Instead, she managed a trembling and relieved smile.

"Hi Blaise." Her voice was raspy and strained, her throat rubbed raw from her screams of pain.

Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her tightly into a protective embrace. She tiredly leaned her head against his shoulder. Though she wanted nothing more than to succumb to the abyss of unconsciousness, she managed to keep her eyes open long enough to see the other Death Eaters easily subdue the Weasley siblings.

"Pansy?" She asked quietly as Blaise moved them away from the group. Her eyes drifted closed.

She could feel him shake his head. "Don't worry about that. We're getting you out now."

Before she could respond she felt the familiar sensation of side-along Apparation as the room disappeared before her eyes.

-.-

"Blasie, you've returned."

Hermione felt her mind swim lazily back to consciousness, the soft, female voice slicing through her mind. She was still in Blaise's arms, the rocking motion of his steps almost lulling her back into the darkness.

Was that Pansy?

She moaned softly, opening her eyes slightly. The sight before her shocked her.

Narcissa Malfoy stood next to an unlit fireplace a few feet from her. She quickly made her way to their side and inspected both wizards for injuries. She frowned at Blaise.

"Blasie, dear, you can barely stand. Bring her here. Lucius, take Miss Granger from him."

She felt fear seize her heart as Lucius Malfoy stood elegantly from his seat and drifted lazily to his wife's side before her. Hermione tightened her grip on Blaise's robe, whimpering softly. Lucius rolled his eyes at her reaction.

Naricssa shot her husband a glare before turning back and brushing Hermione's bangs from her face soothingly.

"It's alright, Miss Granger, you're safe now." She nodded at her husband.

Wordlessly, Lucius slipped his arms beneath Blasie's shaking ones and pulled her easily into his. Tension flooded her body and remained completely stiff in his arms. For his part, he seemed to mostly ignore her and instead turned back to look at his wife.

"Set her on the couch there." Narcissa motioned to the plush, Victorian settee. Once making sure she was placed safely there she turned her attention back to the tired wizard in her parlor.

"Won't you stay? You need to rest, dear." She gently placed her hand on Blaise's arm. He looked like he desperately wanted to take her up on her offer but instead he shook his head.

"I have to get back. Draco is still there and I need to see to Pansy."

Narcissa nodded understandingly and offered him an encouraging smile. "Go then. Don't worry about her," she looked over her shoulder at the young witch who was cautiously eyeing her husband who stood next to the couch. He looked mildly annoyed to be under such scrutiny.

Narcissa smiled. "We'll take care of her now."

Blaise nodded. He turned his attention to his charge. "You're safe now, Hermione." Her honey brown eyes snapped to his, a "yeah right!" look in their depths. "They'll protect you." He waved tiredly at her, gifting her with a small smile.

"I'll see you soon."

Taking a deep breath, he disappeared with a Pop! leaving Hermione suddenly very alone with Lord and Lady Malfoy, pureblooded wizards and Draco's parents.

Oh, this would be interesting.


	13. Cautious Comfort

"I don't mean to interrupt…"

Hermione turned her honey gaze back onto the young healer, believing that the girl truly did not want to do so and allowed her to continue. "Go on."

Smiling nervously, Hendrix flipped through her scattered notes, frowning internally at their disorganization. She was far more affected by the dark witch's seductive tale than her professional self was willing to admit though she was deeply disturbed by Hermione's version of events. It simply went against everything she had been told, taught and understood. A part of her wished to simply discount what her prisoner had said as the ravings of a mad witch but she could not ignore the gnawing in her stomach that said that she spoke the truth.

"I just want to make sure I have the…facts straight."

If Hermione noticed Hendrix's pause over the word "facts," she ignored it and simply motioned patiently for the girl to ask her question.

She quickly cleared her throat. "So after an invasion by the Death Eaters of the Order's headquarters, you were tortured by Harry Potter."

Hermione nodded, her amber eyes hardening as the Healer scribbled in her notes.

"And once you were rescued by Blaise, he took you to the Malfoy Manor and simply left you with the Dark Lord's parents, well known to be…opposed to muggleborns."

Again, the prisoner nodded, shifting slightly in her seat. Hendrix noted the agitation the mention of her in-laws elicited.

"All caught up, are we?" Hermione sneered.

Alexandra gaze snapped to meet her patient's hostile glare. She gulped, suddenly feeling very nervous about the fact that the Dark Queen sat across from her, who was clearly not intimidated by the fact that she was for all intents and purposes rendered powerless.

Hermione regarded the girl for a moment before inhaling and releasing a deep, steadying sigh. This was her chance, her one chance to have her story known. She could not blow it because one girl was doing her job. She rolled her shoulders once and tossed her hair behind her. "Shall we continue, Hendrix?"

Recognizing the olive branch, Alexandra nodded quickly. "Please do."

-.-

Narcissa sighed as she turned back to the frightened witch curled into a ball on her couch. With a fleeting glance towards her husband, she kneeled before the girl, gently running her thin fingers over the cuts on her face, ignoring Hermione's flinch.

"They harmed you?" She asked gently, brushing away the hair that had fallen in her face. Hermione nodded ever so slightly, fearful of making too large a motion as the icy blue eyes staring at her grew dark and stormy with anger. A deep frown marred her delicate, aristocratic features as she whispered a healing spell and watched the skin reknit.

Narcissa suddenly surged to her feet and turned to her husband. "Those knaves dared to harm her; a young, pregnant girl, Lucius! This shall not go unpunished!" Hermione could not help the small gasp that escaped her lips. They knew she was pregnant?

Lucius arched an eyebrow at his wife, mild amusement reflected in their grey depths. "I do believe Draco is seeing to that as we speak, my dear."

Narcissa pursed her lips, her body developing a fine tremor. "I should hope so! It is a matter of honor. If I got my hands on them, they would so regret it." She clenched her delicate hands into fists and quickly paced away from them.

Lucius shook his head, a corner of his lips pulling into a small smirk. "I'm sure they would, my love. You are a formidable witch."

"Don't patronize me, Lucius!" She spun, shaking her finger in his direction. "Do you realize how lucky we are that Blaise was able to find out about this? Why, had we acted too late, the baby would be dead and perhaps her as well." She pointed to the huddled witch, who had shifted to wrap her arms around her knees as she watched the couple, confusion and exhaustion plain on her features.

"I think," Lucius paused, pulling both women's attention completely to him, "the best course of action now, would be to see to the girl, Narcissa." He regarded Hermione with a blank expression that she recognized as one of Draco's; it was usually when he was trying to hide his true feelings on a subject. Nonetheless, she was grateful for his suggestion. She felt the familiar pull of exhaustion at the fringes of her mind and wanted nothing more than to fall into a deep, restful sleep. Hopefully when she awoke, this will all have been a nightmare and everything would be normal again.

"Yes, yes, of course. You are right, darling." Narcissa smiled at Hermione, seeing her husband's wisdom; the fatigue and apprehension was written plainly across the girl's face. "Please forgive my outburst. Lucius, if you would be a dear and follow me with her?" The lady of the house spun on her heel without waiting for an answer. Clearly amused by his wife's antics, he turned and looked down at the small form on the couch. Hermione eyed him with suspicion but thought it wiser to remain silent than to voice her protest. While she did not trust Lucius Malfoy, she trusted her ability to walk at the moment far less.

Ignoring her wariness, Lucius scooped the girl up easily into his arms and followed his wife out of the parlor and up the main staircase.

The trio navigated the dark hallways in silence, Lucius easily following his wife's path through the many turns of the Manor. For her part, Hermione had remained silent and instead had attempted to track her journey through the large house. She had tried to make a mental map in case she needed to make a quick escape. However, after the fourth turn she had given up and instead leaned her head against Lucius's shoulder. She ignored him when he looked down at her with an unreadable expression.

They came to a stop in front of a pair of large dark wooden double doors. Narcissa turned back once to smile at Hermione before she turned the handles, pushing inwards. She quickly ushered her husband in, looking kindly at the wary witch in his arms.

Narcissa muttered something softly as they moved deeper into the room, a few candles lighting, casting a muted but warm glow. The bedroom suite was large, from what Hermione could see, nothing less than she expected of the Malfoy Manor. The large canopied bed, done in turquoise silk and accented in gold, occupied the main wall, with curtained windows rising from the hardwood floors to the vaulted ceilings. Hermione glanced up as she passed under the large crystal chandelier, her eyes drawn to it by the twinkling candlelight.

She started as Lucius began to loosen his hold and lower her slowly to the floor. Hermione stood shakily on her feet, keeping one hand against his arm to steady herself. He did not pull away from her touch.

Narcissa turned to face her, frowning slightly as she took in the girl's haggard appearance. Her hair was falling out of her messy pony tail, curls fanning wildly around her face. Her grey sweater was a mess of slashes and tears, especially around her torso.

Tempering down her rising fury, Narcissa's blue eyes instead refocused on her face. She drew her wand slowly from her robe, her frown deepening when Hermione flinched. Sighing, she whispered something unintelligible. The next moment, a mass of cream chiffon and darker silk was summoned into her hands. She held her hand out to the girl, shifting the dressing gown and wand in the other.

"Come, let's get you out of these clothes. I'm sure your blue jeans are not the most comfortable."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably but tentatively took the outstretched hand. Lucius stepped with the girl, relieving his wife of her wand. He moved respectfully away, once sure the young witch would not collapse, and charmed the decorative screen near the vanity to expand, offering them privacy.

He turned away and settled himself in one of the desk chairs, resting his elbow against the arm rest. He cradled his head with his hand, splaying his fingers over his brow so that his thumb pressed against his temple where a headache was fast forming, wishing desperately for a glass of his favorite wine.

Narcissa was patient with the girl as she helped her undress, surprised by her silence and easy compliance to her instructions. Hermione's jeans dropped heavily to the floor, soon joined by her ruined sweater. Before she could shiver, Narcissa lifted the silk night gown over her head and gently prodded her into working her arms through the straps. The luxurious material flowed over her golden skin, cool against her sore muscles, as it fell to her knees. A matching peignoir quickly followed, Narcissa tying a loose knot at Hermione's waist.

From what she had heard of the witch, Narcissa had been prepared for the girl to be questioning everything the moment Blaise had brought her to Malfoy Manor; them, their roles and the reasons behind their desire to help her. In all honesty, she had expected Hermione to take one look at Lucius and demand that Blaise take her elsewhere, even back to Potter. It was no secret that in the past her family had not be the most _courteous_ towards her and her…kind. She knew that her husband had interacted with Potter's best friend on occasion and had even attacked her. She would not blame the girl for being distrustful. As such, she was absolutely stunned by her acceptance with little protest.

Narcissa tugged her patiently to the vanity and pushed her to sit on the plush seat. Hermione complied wordlessly and watched the older witch work behind her in the mirror. She pulled her curls easily from its perch atop her head and gently ran a silver backed brush lightly over her hair before plaiting it loosely. She picked up a silken cream ribbon from the vanity top and deftly secured bottom of the braid with a simple bow. Pleased with her work, Narcissa tugged one end teasingly before placing it over Hermione's shoulder. "Much better."

"Thank you." Hermione whispered, casting her eyes down to her folded hands, not knowing what else to say.

Narcissa sighed, tapping the girl on the shoulder, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "Never look down, Miss Granger. That is not your lot anymore."

Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion. She wanted to ask her what she meant but Narcissa quickly waved away her forming question. "There will be time later, my dear." No longer in possession of her wand, she called out to her husband as she again helped the girl to her feet. "We're finished here, darling."

The screen folded quietly back up at Lucius's command. Hermione allowed herself to be led by the hand like a child to the bed.

"Here we are," Narcissa said kindly as she drew back the covers to the large bed and shifted the pillows around. "In you go. Some much need rest will do you a world of good."

She cautiously sat down and smiled in place of the words of gratitude she could not seem to find. In return, Narcissa offered her a smile of encouragement that seemed genuine and immediately set her apprehension at ease. It had been such a long time since she had been taken care of in the way Draco's mother had in the last five minutes. Her patient and caring demeanor made Hermione feel as if her own mother was there with her. She fought back the tears the thought brought, blinking rapidly to make them disappear, though they did not escape Narcissa's sharp gaze.

As she slipped beneath the sheets, she finally turned towards Lucius. While his look was not his usual one of arrogance, the Malfoy patriarch's appraising gaze did unsettle her. He had yet to say a single word to her directly, seemingly content to allow his wife to handle the situation as she saw fit. He even did as he was bid without complaint.

These were most definitely not the Malfoys she had been expecting.

"Rest now, dear," Narcissa's voice pulled her attention back to the present as she turned to her husband. "Would you please fetch Doctor Linacre? I think it would be best to have Miss Granger examined as soon as possible to put all of our minds at ease."

If Lucius objected to "fetching" the doctor, he made no outside indication of it and instead nodded, leaning forward to lift his wife's hand. Hermione half expected him to press a kiss to the back of it. Instead, he gently turned her hand over and laid her wand in the center of her palm. Narcissa smiled gratefully, closing her fingers around it.

The couple hovered together at her bedside, staring at each other in silence. Hermione shifted uncomfortably, feeling as if she was intruding upon what should have been a private moment. Her movement seemed to spur them into action. Lucius released her hand and Narcissa allowed it to fall back to her side. He nodded his departure. "I shall return shortly."

He took a step back, pausing in his turn to regard the woman—no girl his wife began to tend to. She cooed soothingly at the witch, telling her to sleep. He could see her eyelids grow heavy before finally shutting as her traumatized body gave into the command for rest.

The quiet catch of the door and the fading sound of his footsteps were all that indicated he had ever been present in the room.

-.-

Hermione swam back into consciousness as hushed voices reached her ears. She struggled against the weight of her eyelids that were proving most reluctant to open. Frustrated, she gave up on forcing her eyes open and instead simply listened.

"…is handling it well, especially for someone in her condition." The man's voice was low and soothing, one she did not recognize but she knew he was speaking of her.

"Will she suffer any long term effects?" She quickly identified Narcissa's voice, surprised that it came from just beside her on the bed. Had the Malfoy matriarch sat beside her while she was asleep?

"The girl is young, Lady Malfoy, and in excellent health, if a little underweight. From young Master Zabini's description of the torture, I expected to find much more damage to her tissues." She felt the doctor lift her limp arm. "Her extremities show faint signs of trauma, mostly superficial though. I have healed the injuries to her lungs and internal organs as well. It is a miracle I did not have to remove one of her kidneys. Somehow," he lowered her arm gently to the bed, "Potter was able to localize the curse on her torso, particularly on her womb, instead of her mind. While I foresee no damage to her sanity, we shall have to see once she awakens."

There was a sharp intake of breath at her side from Narcissa that filled the silence. Hermione shuddered internally at the doctor's observation. She remembered the intense pain she had felt from Harry's curse; it had been nothing like what the _Cruciatus_ was meant to inflict. In fact, she had felt it moving away from her mind and limbs to focus on her baby. She knew Harry had meant to kill her child, she knew that's why he had apologized. After all, he didn't need an addled Order member. He still wanted her for her mind.

"And the child, Linacre? What of the child?" Lucius's deep drawl voiced the concern of everyone in the room. Hermione was shocked to hear a strain of unease in his voice, though it was nothing more than a slight tremor. She wanted to flinch at a soft, comforting touch to her forehead as Narcissa stroked her hair away from her face, her own breath hitching. Dreading the doctor's diagnoses, she took comfort from her gentle ministrations.

The doctor paused, perhaps glancing between the Malfoys before answering. "The baby lives, my lord. From what I have been told of Miss Granger, I suspect that her unprecedented magical capability combined with that of Master Draco created a resilient and responsive child. I believe that it may have helped protect mother and child. Furthermore, the blood rites Miss Granger performed joined her magic with that of the ancient and most noble House of Black to protect them both from most of the damage from _Cruciatus_ curse."

Narcissa sighed in relief, sinking deeper into the pillows beside her. "Should we be concerned about a miscarriage in the near future?"

"Miss Granger is still within her first trimester, madam. I think it would be prudent to proceed with the normal care of a young woman during her first pregnancy and encourage caution in regards to strenuous activity and stress. However, I am prescribing bed rest for the next week or so for her to recover from the after effects of the curse and of the entire ordeal. Along with these potions." Glass vials clinked against one another as they were pulled from the doctor's bag and placed at her bedside table. "I have written the prescription for each on the specific potion. She should begin taking them in the morning once she has regained consciousness. I shall return in two weeks' time to follow up and begin her on a proper regimen of potions and vitamins for the remainder of her pregnancy."

"Thank you, doctor. Lucius will show you out."

"My lady."

The room fell silent as the two men strode across the hardwood floors and out of the room. Hermione, still unable to open her eyes, felt her body slowly sag in relief.

Narcissa sighed again, maintaining her soothing attentions. She gently stroked the young witch's hair, humming a calming tune, more for her own benefit than the girl tucked securely in bed.

Hermione felt herself begin to drift back into the warm darkness of sleep but she forced herself to process some of what she had learned.

The baby was fine, healthy even. Harry had not succeeded in killing her child.

That was the most important thing.

As she finally lost the battle against oblivion, one final thought echoed in her mind.

_Harry Potter will regret ever trying to harm my child. _

-.-

It was light when she awoke next.

Hermione blinked her eyes, focusing on the unlit chandelier above her. Her eyes flickered around the room, finding a stream of soft sunlight entering from an open window. She shifted, the silk sheets ghosting across her skin.

"You're awake."

Hermione gasped, rolling quickly onto her side at the deep drawl. She was shocked to find the elder Malfoy seated in the chair near her bed, one hand nursing a glass of wine, the fingers of his other hand wrapped loosely around his wand. She eyed him warily, only relaxing when he made no move towards her. He simply arched an amused eyebrow.

"Relax, Miss Granger, you are safe with me."

The feisty Hermione that had been buried under fear, pain and exhaustion had recovered quickly with rest and shot him a look of clear disbelief. "Of that I'm sure." She rasped, her voice scratchy from her damaged throat.

Lucius remained unaffected and instead motioned to the glass of water placed at the bedside table. "Drink."

Hermione glared as she slowly struggled to the side of the bed. She reached for the glass and took a grateful sip. The cool water soothed her throat. She quickly drank down the rest the quench her sudden thirst. Finished, she returned the cup and settled back into a comfortable position against the pillows. "Do I begin my potions now?"

Lucius smirked as he stood, retrieving the correct vial and offering it to her. "I should have known you were awake."

Hermione accepted it dubiously, reading over the label and the doctor's surprisingly neat script. Satisfied that it was not poisonous, she quickly downed the potion for restoration. She placed the vial on the table carefully as Lucius returned to his seat.

"Where is Mrs. Malfoy?" She suddenly asked, remembering that the woman had been at her side during the doctor's visit.

"She stayed with you until sunrise, child. I sent her to rest an hour ago."

To say Hermione was shocked that the Malfoy patriarch had seemingly took up his wife's place at her side was an understatement. "But why are you here?" She knew she was being dumb to question someone who was offering her sanctuary despite their public hatred of her kind, but she could not wrap her head around the idea.

"Someone needs to watch over you." He shrugged in the appearance of nonchalance, but Hermione did not miss him tightening his fingers around his wand. He turned away from her, clearly done with their conversation, and focused his attention on the closed double doors of the suite. He reached for his wine glass again but did not take a drink. He simply held it, swirling the ruby liquid ever so slowly.

Hermione shivered, a thrill of fear running down her back. She recognized the unease of the man. If he was concerned enough to stay at her side as _protection_, just how safe was she within his home?

Raised voices drifted into the room from the floor below. Lucius flinched, obviously recognizing them.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

Lucius motioned for her to be quiet and set down his wine. The voices increased in volume, pounding steps joining them. Lucius stood and instead of going towards the door as she had expected him to do, he moved closer towards her. Glancing once in her direction, he cautiously sat on the edge of her bed, his wand still in his hand.

Hermione sank deeper into her pillows, her hands clenching the bed covers. She wished desperately for her wand but she had no idea what had happened to it. She realized that if anything were to happen, in her condition, she would have to rely on her lover's prejudiced father.

The doors to her room suddenly swung open, revealing a tall, imposing figure still clad in long black robes. His pale hair reflected in the muted light, mirroring his grey eyes that fixed immediately on her bed-ridden form. They widened, his mouth opening slightly as he remained frozen in the threshold.

Hermione felt tears prick at her eyes, her chin trembling. Lucius stood warily at her side, his wand pointed subtly at his side.

"Draco?"

"Son?"

Draco Malfoy, the new Dark Lord, nodded at both questions as he blinked back a line of tears, a beautiful, relieved smile pulling at his lips. "Hermione."


End file.
